The Ways in Which We Puttered

By: KJ Hannah Greenberg


When outmoded enough to care for community mothers, we counted
The ways they puttered in gardens, discarding cool, rainy day work
As balderdash-type business (only university scholars should jab wet
Dirt, sow in contentious grounds, attempt impossible, verdant growth.)

Consider that godlets, their funders, utilize superficialities to unionize,
Seedpods to avoided ceding losses or relinquishing winnings, cuttings
To hold contrary relationships tethered to social machinations, formal
Paperwork to link collusive compliments to archaic, ductile archways.

Punitive adults never posture social strictures’ hush-hush evidence;
Rather, they promote content via social media, also friendly courses.
Less than cheerfully, they gambit rhetorical goals engineered by fey.
Granted, most establishments tire of defending complaints all hours.

Subsequently, laughter embarrasses crones, severs old connections,
Causes grandmas to lose sleep, babies to cry out, lovers to toss, turn.
It’s better to collect visible belly button lint or to ram eyes with pens
Than watch demolished dreams, hopes, fabulations for mere minutes.

Sanctimonious champions limit their purview to select skerries, keep
To safe geographic “wonders.” Erstwhile victors simply shrug, break
Old-style phones, then apprentice to become lorry drivers, shepherds.
Too frequently, we discount the worth of drool, diminish snot’s value.

If we’d conducted sounder research on strawberry trees, we might yet
Have realized that surveillance, well used, can bluster fiduciary satiety.
On balance, in cultures of robust men, pathetic women entrepreneurs
Sneer; peripheral appraisals carry weight, paid fees remain important.

Tomorrow, in double dug rows, additional renditions, those rucked up
Aspirations, will flower then fade. Infamously missing husbands will
Return, bovids will request milking. Running off to Canada will seem
Prudence as will jinking the sentiments of our hallowed grandmothers.


Categories: Poetry

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