With her help-opposite otherwise preoccupied,
Riding on donkeys, listening to silver trumpets,
Mrs. Moshiach emptied her collection box of dollars, euros, yen.
There was marketing to be accomplished. The world’s
Souk was offering opinions in various sizes, colors, tastes,
To sagacious and foolish buyers, alike.
Whereas some folk prefer to grind their gists on old-fashioned quems,
Most takers happily chomp pabulum, that bland stuff lacking
Sufficient nutrients; cognitive-heavy absorption takes too much time.
Accordingly, the prophetess, who dressed in ticky-tacky,
Her autogiro equipped with six forward gears,
Flew in for a day at the mall. Yellow journalism was on sale.
Home, she deigned to hijack seemingly sated media crews by dint of her
Tahini, hummus, falafel, especially, her sandwiched analyses of cultural switchbacks.
Know, extra sugar makes arak, rose-petal tea, also oishr, so much sweeter.
Women’s work remains unacknowledged. Those reporters,
Workers-for-hire, scriveners, burped politely, yet filed prescripted stories.
Her man’s campaign, in contrast, changed the course of history.
KJ Hannah Greenberg (website) and her hibernaculum of imaginary hedgehogs roam the verbal hinterlands. Her creative efforts are devoted to lovers of slipstream fiction, to second chair oboe players and to mothers who despair of finding the bottom of Mt. Laundry. Hannah’s newest book, Oblivious to the Obvious: Wishfully Mindful Parenting, is available at French Creek Press. Some of the homes for her poetry have included: Cantaraville, Language and Culture Magazine, Poetry Superhighway, New Vilna Review, and Vox Poetica. Last year, Hannah read poetry submissions for Sotto Voce and was named, by The Shine Journal, for the Pushcart Poetry Prize.