gershon hepner Poems

Like rotten sweetness of a prostitute
are orchids’ sweetness, as per Chandler, Raymond,
lacking stamina the former can’t be cute,
and orchids lose their sweetness once they’ve been destamened.
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MAKE-BELIEVE


Whether our prologue be in heaven or
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Cocteau, Camus, of course Coco Chanel
all smoked, and the word cigarette
is French as the tower that’s named for Eiffel,
as sexy as Brigitte Bardot was when wet,
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I’d rather be a nouveau riche
than some impoverished veteran.
I’m looking for a nouveau niche
that’s hopefully a better ’un
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Gliding in swamp waters till
It smells a mammal in a tree,
a Cuban crocodile can kill
by leaping in the air. While we
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TURTLE TEACHERS

Having laid her eggs upon a distant beach,
the turtle hurries quickly to the friendly ocean;
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A girl who won’t take off her clothes
for guys who do not read the sort
of books that basically she loathes
is not the type a smart one one ought
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We interrupt the stillness when
we reach for it by word,
and though we all are hollow men
we can’t grasp the absurd.
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When the fittest who survive will eat us
thanks to evolutionary powers
will the deus who is absconditus
listen to their prayers or ours,
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Observations sometimes leap
at you, some come while you’re asleep;
be ready for them always lest
you swallow, failing to digest.
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