Public Snogging Poem by gershon hepner

I do not get my kicks from jogging,
for I prefer them while at home.
What some like best is public snogging,
symmetric as a palindrome,
hand over breast, lip locked to lip,
displaying publicly affection,
which may not show their statesmanship,
but cannot hurt in an election.



Gordon Brown-the clever, menacing, petulant, and hence rather human face of Blairism who was forced to stand aside to let Tony become leader and has always regretted it-did a poor man's Al Gore: He kissed his new wife after he finished his conference speech. A reporter writes: “Coming as I do from a family where even holding hands in public was considered a decidedly dodgy Jimmy-Carterish thing to do (my mother once grabbed my father's paw on a skiing holiday years ago before he realized what was happening) this is hard to take. But for the snog to be performed by Brown, a person who by all accounts heroically held out against marriage for so long despite the advice of a thousand spin doctors, is too much. It is not just the sad sight of a man sacrificing his privacy. Imitating Gore so cravenly gives Britain a colonial, second-hand feel: It's a bit like the movies coming out several weeks late. Is Blairism merely Clinton-Gore without the long clinch?

© 2000 Gershon Hepner 9/27/00