By: KJ Hannah Greenberg

Of Kindly Men and Imagined Satanists

Squiffy sorts, who eat popcorn as a snack, who forget to take daily constitutionals,
Are often gobsmacked over limitedly palatable, scintillating, “highbrow” dialogue.
Yet, those same men, unfavorably described in essays as diced or spiced with fancy
Words, snub ethnogenics as academic flibbertigibbet, as cashmere drubbing publics. 

For them, snips of writing read by coruscating dandies remain preternatural courses
To friendship, shared pints. Tribal flânerie, like other outlier palavers, seems dumb.
Arrogance’s limited verbal vapor barrier, all abstruse and pretentious, creates weird
Cultural pareidolia, points where clannish empressement confuses bystanders’ gist.

All in all, the formation and development of social groups stays government cantrip;
Left alone, people ignore paraprosdokians plus related tomfoolery since immaterial
Figures bring laughter, not paychecks. Additionally, frumpled brows, never sequins,
Marabou, rosettes, or flounces best suit would-be balladeers seeking illustriousness.

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Unfettered Bird

Little bird there, on my window sill,
Sitting pretty, sitting still.
Little friend there, little able wings,
Little creature, little thing, unfettered bird.

If I were afloat on limbs like yours,
I fly past blockades, I’d glide outdoors.
But I’m just a youth, with feet for things;
I lack choice, I lack wings.

Lucky bird there, on my window sill,
Sitting pretty, sitting still.
Lucky friend there with unfettered limbs,
Fluky creature, blessed thing, unchained bird.

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Maybe, Draw a Caricature: A Love Story

If I could paint a picture,
Maybe, draw a caricature,
I’d hold your life within black lines,
Spaces, shadows, grand designs,
In a scene, perhaps a sketch,
Paper magic always seems best.

Hence, I pencil in landscapes,
Stroke profiles, make stark art,
Dab, stab, dip, dash, end, restart.
Sometimes well, sometimes not,
That’s my knack, but, more importantly,
You tint me.