gershon hepner Poems

Like Wittgenstein, I think that life is wonderful,
and even though I cannot help but blunder,
I love it for the witty way its ridicule
results in mental wanderlust and wonder.
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Far better fables anodyne
than stories that are scary,
Don Giovanni drinking wine
with no Commendatore,
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There is no law of levity,
but once it’s codified
with wit, the soul of brevity,
I hope I’m notified,
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When a horny Californian mistress calls
her Unalaskan lover, asking for a date,
the wife should not call the police, but grab his balls
before he goes back to the Lower Forty-Eight.
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Rabban Gamliel saw a ship that was wrecked
and mourned for Aqiba who’d drowned,
he’s mistakenly thought, feeling very abject,
till he landed and—miracle! —found
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Mysteriously, there rose a smell
in Bergen County, and it crossed
the Hudson River, where its spell
on Westside people was not lost,
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A man may be imprisoned in a room
that opens inwards: it will be his tomb
if he keeps pushing. When our heads are full
of nonsense, thoughts are teeth we have to pull.
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Like Florida, I’m in foreclosure.
There’s no one who will buy my dreams,
although once certified as kosher,
they all appear like Ponzi schemes
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Thamthon of Gaza, with muthles of thteel,
was theated one day on the lap of a danther,
Delilah, who athked him: “Thay, can they be real? ”
“Ath real as my hair ith tho long, ” wath his anther,
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Acceptance of the end of life when its
container has worn out,
and the awareness it no longer fits
the spirit that’s within it in the drought
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