Church bells peel funeral dirges for single digit sizes. Such stay forever with the devil.
Rather, run amok among ordinary confections; it’s better to indulge in gibber
Than to suffer ringworm, dysentery, other raucous diseases, also dislodged thoughts.
Advertisements that affect cures for unrecognized problems, like kudzu, the bejeweled eyes
Of grasshoppers, bumblebee’s comings, goings, and feuds, slyly reproduce without legislation.
Old fashioned common-sense, new-fangled funding, the “signature” of elements,
Belong in museums, mayhap to line polyarchs’ walls or our wallets. At fifty, break free!
KJ Hannah Greenberg giggles too much to be actually indomitable. What's more, she: eats oatmeal, runs with a hibernaculum of imaginary hedgehogs, watches dust bunnies breed beneath her sofa, and attempts to matchmake words like “balderdash” and “xylophone.” Sure, she's been twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize in Literature and once for The Best of the Net, as well as received National Endowment for the Humanities monies. Nonetheless, she refuses to learn to text or to own a digital watch.
Faithfully constructive in her epistemology, Hannah channels gelatinous monsters and two-headed wildebeests. As such, she helps out as an Associate Editor at _Bound Off!_ and at _Bewildering Stories_, and serves as an Instructing Author at Dzanc Books. Look for her two newest books, _Citrus-Inspired Ceramics_ (Kelsay Books), poetry, and _The Immediacy of Emotional Kerfuffles _(Bards and Sages Publishing), short fictions, in September and December of this year.