by KJ Hannah Greenberg




Jazzed Words


Gnostic thinkers, cherry red, armed versus evil types of refurbished dualism,

Purposely underpin dilemmas otherwise construed as needing allaying from

Energies roiling with inferences about promiscuity, putsches, prickles. They

Stay miraculously hard-wearing during the advent of institutional afflictions,

Reframing common responses to witnessed death in utero, at of birth, or mid

Very young babies. Additionally, their numbness to iniquitous comportment

Harms grieving ladies as well as confuses collective epistemologies evolved

Vis-a-via subjugating women to convention medicine’s misogynous protocol.


Few intellects deny, minimalize, or rationalize social discrepancies, cruelties,

Oppression. Scare mess with mothers, partners, sisters, and daughters’ minds.

Rather, the elite’s “best” tactic, to socially reducing females is to “accept,” to

Encourage, to seemingly direct compassion at those self-identifying partners.

Alternatively, all chosen venerate media, depress fair thoughts, urge conjoint

Opposition to those “radicles” (despite the significant social costs such clout

Imposes). Unumpired ontologies’ components convey fantasies, demonstrate

Meek lives as organized round a premium on “status,” as measured by power.


Contrariwise, our conspicuous lack of critical words concerning consumption

Of influencer-issued rubbish, especially of antipathies issued by elected execs

Accused of atrocities (they granted clemencies to starlets restored to miniscule

Dress sizes weeks past embracing surgically-aided births), amasses worrisome

Rejoinders. Mindful denizens must publicly acknowledge, ahead of validating,

The need to grapple broad rhetoric; we’ve forsaken our privilege to hero status.

Bear in mind protesting insurance companies’ inadequate provisions becoming

Unnecessarily burdensome, gratuitously illusionary plus pointlessly controlling.


Articulated, idealized national accountability, as tangible ethical dimensions of

Shared discourse, could evoke complex relations amid large sets of interacting

Variables, else be crudely categorized as “shameful.” Talk admits the survival

Of dishonorable goings-on, compels us to incorporate unnecessary “Miracles,”

Indulges dissent-deficient awareness of alignments contrary to paid authorities

Mobilized to collect meaning, ideological acquisition, & ruthless exploitation.

Seemingly harmless cronyism, patron-client relationships, besides, fail havens

When rights go forgone. Providence’s uncontested affairs never cease working.



a black line



Random Accounts through Tempera Paint


No matter the quarts of hascap jam, the fields interwoven with wild oats or goosefoot,

The vines impregnated with myriad grapes, the sheep and goats gobbling up meadows,

We made time for friendship among fronds, forbs, duck ponds, also moments for love.


Whenever easels, splatters, brushes, palettes attempted to capture our verdant milieus,

Whether squalls or copious rain urged odd tints to our landscapes, we rarely spurned

Canvasses, hardly ever stopped to expunge, entirely, goodnesses’ unthinkable surfeit.


Later, as teens, we looked to local, county tuck shops to yield more honied diversions

Lest our illustrations referenced huntresses or psychics, conjured pink giraffes, petite,

Unruly turtles. Maybe, for fear our accounts bridled our long-ranging bond’s integrity.


Afterwards, I kept my office flap closed if writing, disappeared at my keyboard, else

Tried to infuse descriptive language, plot building, plus character development in my

Perplexing exertions because storytelling’s mastery expressly expects green purpose.


“Advanced” literature, all in all, remains thick with tirades on court decisions, amidst

Accounts of oceanic terrorism, words replacing “isolation” and “egocentricity” inside

Of communities, in ways guns never, forever, prove valuable; frenetic pace limits us.


See, no fika supplies more than tea and biscuits, cute talk, simpering glances, given:

Readers’ avajjo has gone missing, my laundry rests unsorted, my cats wait hungrily.

Sunderance notwithstanding, communication turns into meager, mawkish melanges.


Those among broods hatching sufficiently to preserve, contrariwise, best penchants

Toward implied strictures (duty-bound toward constructive epistemologies), ponder

Gelatinous monsters and two-headed wildebeests’ amity for souks running amuck.


Consequently, saudades, always, stay anything but torpid, everything but unceasing.

Besides, articulated, locative “sighs’” adumbrations to larger feelings typically bud

Encapsulated, emotional petards (at times, young shepherds neglect hillside lambs.)



a black line



The Borrowed Chairs


The borrowed chairs, folded sort of similar to car lanes

Snaking concentrically around school yard doors, like

Some auctioneer’s gong, forever reverberating against

Empty wallets and akin to sapphire dreams, remind me

How our lemon dishwasher, all lights, carillons, no

Discernable function keeps breaking time and again.


Cats’ litter boxes, likewise, reek like unfinished chores,

More attitude than matches clogging puddles in devices

Filled with other than pots and pans. Chicken carcasses,

Apricot pits, and tough stems of basil don’t belong with

Coffee cups, saucers, serving spoons. Even fur caught

By dust bunny froths proves less unfeasible to process.


On balance, when unloading sundry parceled comestibles

From our minivan, you ogle me, appear as momentarily

Libidinous, remind us that twenty years of miles equal

Naught of maxima, just too many hours misused past

Our pillows. While grading midterms, I think on life’s

Variegations, growing duties, & middle age pleasures.




a black line


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