Personal Pepper Mill Poem by gershon hepner

If you’re on call all moments of the year
to visit places where you’ve never been
make sure before you choose to disappear
that you are wearing underwear that's clean
in case you meet a brunette or a blonde
who fancies you and asks you to slip out
of pants you're wearing––it is hard to bond
with those whose personal hygiene is in doubt.
It helps to bed the blonde or brunette if
you carry with you your own pepper mill;
by grinding it you show initiative
that makes them act according to your will.
That’s why in my two pockets you will find
a pair of underpants, like spares for tires,
and pepper in a mill; when they’re combined,
my habits work like magic in the shires.