Three Poems
by KJ Hannah Greenberg
On Sounding Like a Basset Hound
I sound like a Basset Hound, all snuffly phonemes
Bounding out of my mouth when invited to speak
Poems Ive fashioned, on-air, online, or in front of
Audiences politely buying tickets to such readings.
Open mikes, similar to bathing suits, reveal more
Bumps, scars, (intellectual) cellulite than better
Covering attire. Yet, theyre suitable for events
Which require no special garb or true sensibility.
If only tears, frowns, bad memories, clogged throats
Less than words could show, Id elocate like angels,
Vibrate my sentences comparable to aquatic royalty,
Echo verbal impressions in the way of outworlders.
These days, though, I splutter motes, slobber calls
To love, to lighten prejudice, to embrace the good
Natural to men, women, children. Thus, my verses
Inflict pals with short-legged noise, low-eared racket.
Duplicitous, Bleeding Hearts and Vagabonds
Powers and values differ among groups
Such that transitional stages of processes,
Except for men with benevolent miens,
Frequently entail sanguinary goings-on.
Nonetheless, the ballad of the celebrated,
Expensive, anti-tank, rustproof keychain,
All apotheositic in its precipitous outcome,
Overhauled recognized civic conventions.
The tales nisi jurisdiction, its elliptical
Expression, went unchallenged because
Our verge of dairy cow pastures, our
Fringe, arable lands, crofts, remain vital.
Intrinsically, our most arduous defense,
Ever argued by our office, detonated,
Discharging chipped porcelain façades,
Also spotty overhauls of social gnashnabs.
Thereafter, the public lapsed from sublime
To trivial, in prioritizing our preparations
For contingencies blistering, maybe colder.
Lamentably, we frittered away much time.
Today, we yet chafe from the concomitant
Strictures of yesterdays communal promotion.
Wealth, enviable providence, overall, escapes
Us, except in beef farming, swine health.
At best, we log bonus hours examining
Abnormal exists. Its possible, eusociality
Will prevail, will provide fictional reads,
Will make utter losers erstwhile winners.
That Sexy Hamster
That sexy hamster, innocent wink-a-peeps,
Soft fur, tumescent digits, warm fragrance,
Wiggly haunches, is louche with practice.
That rodents nature hangs on a truth more
Real than peacock frantlings, fish gestations,
Varieties of sex aids sold in high street shops.
After all, irked mammals, like their happy
Counterparts, take comfort from trading hugs,
Plus rubbing noses, squashing sensitive bits.
Accordingly, its of no surprise that whiskered
Effusion, among rotund four-footers, continues
The rhetoric of breeding, plus social position.
Without creating numerous litters, no mouse-
Like critter could support their kind in slowly,
Methodically, taking control of the world.
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