gershon hepner Poems

Arriving for his father’s funeral hatless
Edward landed, looking far from square,
said Betjeman. Though I am rarely catless,
my head, like Edward’s, is quite often bare.
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Once you’ve succeeded in a task
do not try to repeat it;
hot water in a vacuum flask
should never be reheated,
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Keep your eye upon the clues:
the words unconsciously you drop
provide the where’s and why’s and who’s
that lie beneath, above the top.
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Words that, frozen to the skull,
I try to thaw, and start to mull
before I slide into a slumber,
I find in sleep, a lot less dumber
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Her pen she would caress and fondle
while most particular
that after straight lines, horizontal,
came perpendicular.
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In search of cocktails that are varnished
modern nomads wander through the hotel lobbies;
expense accounts are rarely garnished
while in the bar oases they indulge their hobbies,
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Eve and Adam first got dressed
seventy thousand years ago,
when the louse, a pesky pest,
clung to clothes that made a beau
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Nevaeh is a name that’s found
a lot of favor, now competing
with those with a more common sound,
although not Sara yet defeating.
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When, as a shepherd, Moses turned,
recovering a straying lamb,
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My second choice is being funny,
my first is being sweet,
if not as treacle or as honey
at least as sugar beet,
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