Linda Hepner Poems

Lana when she had to wear
her stuffy, scratchy, underwear,
fell for the ploy and put it on;
was paid quite well by Mr. Jon.
...

A compass is an old device
To make a circle round your love,
The lady Circe in a trice
Has just to raise her arm above
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No longer call me by the name my mother gave me,
something simple, sounding pretty, not too deep;
my father, thinking his way darkly, tried to save me,
and hid away my name for me to find and keep.
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Painting naked women makes them nude,
And I do long to see two painters feud
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The most intriguing member of the cast is counter,
not revolutionary but tenor, his high pitch
confusing men and women he’ll encounter,
believing him to be a diva bitch.
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Once long ago I lay in bed recuperating –
Some sudden twinges in my hoisting hips -
That sunny afternoon when you were visiting
A family for lunch whose friendship tips
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The Milky Way was curled and curdled in the sky tonight
when on the shore I heard the waves crash down;
a thousand cats leaped miowling at the moon,
wolves howled at the wind
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Tracing calligraphy in Asian courtyards,
my ears filled with the tune of splashing water,
I sit upon a low wall writing this
in purple ink
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For you are green, my love,
like trees in springtime, out come your buds
and soon the leaves and blossoms. Some smell sweet
and others far too far above our heads to know
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Saint Spider spun a wondrous web
Between the branches of two trees
She swung she ran she tugged each thread
Her elbows needles, pins her knees.
...