Archive
Ah, the Aardvark: Classifying Chaos in an Urban Zoo
Ah, the aardvark, by that badger, cons a capuchin.
Thereafter, he pauses; driving home poor dingo’s wager,
Makes the elephant, egret, ermine, eel, and emu,
Fiddle alongside falcons, gannets, likewise, gnus.
Hornets’ hijinx, hackees’ hallucinations, as well as ibexes’ notions,
Irk impalas, especially when such acts cause irascible commotions.
It’s known, too, that jackdaws, jerboas, jack rabbits, jellies,
Unabashedly watch “kissing” gouramis scoot along on bellies.
Elsewhere, lampreys laugh as loggerheads slink,
Beyond magpies, mudpups, muskrats, mink.
Plus, needlefish, nagas, nutcrackers, all get busy scrutinizing slimy newts,
Which scold shy octopi, fast osprey, maybe otters decked in fastidious suits.
Paccas pearch near puffins, pandas, panthers, pups, pudus,
Quail sing with quaggas and quokka cats, too,
As rabbits, reindeer, sprinkboks (but not shrews),
Push tamarins, tapirs, quite all sorts of tayras; they choose.
Uakaris screech their tessitura. Voles hide in form.
Wallabys whistle to wattlebirds, woodcocks, worms.
Xyloryctes beetles march in parade, unrestrained,
Past yellowhammers, yapoks, ynambus so tame.
Zebu, sweat slick, run from zorilles, given that visitors’ little
Litter, rather than human potions, lotions, pills, or vittles,
Impart sufficient cordons against hidden social skunks,
In particular, after brazen city kids get present alphabet funk.
KJ Hannah Greenberg (website) snorts and snuffs in poetry and prose. Her most recent books include: A Bank Robber’s Bad Luck with His Ex-Girlfriend (Unbound CONTENT, 2011, a full-length poetry collection); Fluid & Crystallized, (Fowlpox Press, 2012, a poetry chapbook); Supernal Factors (The Camel Saloon Books on Blog, 2012, a poetry chapbook); and Don’t Pet the Sweaty Things (Bards & Sages Publishing, 2012, a short fiction collection).
Mrs. Moshiach
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.
qarrtsiluni 