Like summer snow on bitumen,
Meters before our windshields,
Teasing possibilities, including
Teleporting to regions, where
No terrorist or temperature
Inhibits any anodyne commute
Among school, work, home.
Desultory motoring, plus perfidious
Others, yet bring cultural collisions,
The likes of which, thereafter, seldom
Create cause for comfortable sharing.
Even persons, blessed to take early
Sabbath, fail at apotheoses involving
Children worn as shields, concrete
Tossed on lanes, random mad men.
Social lenticels need to offer better
Breathing, opportunities for walking
Away from ruins, improved survival
Rates. Some numbers need no proof;
Shoah’s martyrs, fathers, mothers,
Babies, remain as in vitro warnings.
We light candles, thank The Almighty,
Dream, awake, empower Am Yisrael.
At present, comparable to Final Days,
Quiet denizens, alerted by alternate
Realities, stridently grasp antiquities;
Fiends’ villages hold scant practical
Wisdom, little truth, humanity, peace.
Thus, potatoes, rocks, hens jumping
Off of pickups, justify overlooking
No depredations. We locals extirpate.
KJ Hannah Greenberg gets high on adverbs, mixes more metaphors than a platypus has pockets, plus giggles so much as to not actually be indomitable. What’s more, she flies the galaxy in search of assistant bank managers, runs with a hibernaculum of sometimes rabid (imaginary) hedgehogs, and attempts to matchmake words like “balderdash” and “xylophone.” Among Hannah’s forthcoming books are: Word Citizen (Tailwinds Press, 2015), Jerusalem Sunrise (Imago Press, 2014), The Little Temple of My Sleeping Bag (Dancing Girl Press, 2014), and Simple Gratitudes (Propertius Press, 2014). Her newest releases are The Immediacy of Emotional Kerfuffles (Bards and Sages Publishing, 2013), and Citrus-Inspired Ceramics (Aldrich Press, 2013).