KJ Hannah Greenberg

In the north, auroras light the sky with flashes of brilliant washes.
Their curtains of hues drape from zenith to horizon, illuminating
Heavens otherwise dark for months.

In those taiga regions, where birch, poplars, also conifers, reach
Heights unequaled, wolverines, wolves, reindeer, ermine, hares
Caribou and lynxes hunt or hide.

The circumpolar tundra, mostly ice and snow with short seasons
Of sunlight, differs from the forests’ realm, where unevaporated
Moisture slicks the summers.

It’s the latter, cold, lonely biome, not the “top of the world” that
Faces away from our star, germinates sprouts scintillating florae,
Offers no steadfast shelter.

Sundry things sit wondrous to behold, quite miraculous, phenomenal,
Mind-blowingly prominent, extraordinary, unbelievable, exceptional,
Plus, astounding, inexplicable in function, incredible in form, equally
Marvelous, “true exemplars” for miscellany.

Contrarywise, the mediocre, the middling, the run-of-the-mill, those
Average, ordinary, hackneyed kits, situate themselves as pedestrian,
As unexceptional, routine, standard, typical, mainstream, or normal,
Else dull, unimaginative, uninspired pastiches.

All the same, generally speaking, life’s not humdrum nor brilliant.
It’s breathtaking as well as banal, alternatively archetypally exotic
Then dreary. Most certainly, goings-on are wont to sequence both
Superb moments and dreadful ones.

In disgracing any rank, namely, all hoary tosh
Proffered by silent peers revealed as stillborn,
Devoid of organic wisdom, lacking any class
Of goodness, whether petal or leaf, bud, even
Branch, boldly, I choose duplicity over bland
Confluence. Dubious insights soften cogency.

These days, I’ve got the YouTube blues.
From shepherds to domestic dachshunds,
Plus, recipes for durian, haggis, sashimi,
Likewise, tips for burnishing cupboards,
I’ve got the YouTube blues.

Fortunately, in craving picture show reviews,
Besides promotions of charted books, music
Sourced around the world, bizarre sculpture,
Or dance ensembles ridiculing impediments,
I’ve got the YouTube blues.

If I were to dwell amidst a bloated view,
Ride a motorcycle across the land, else
Take up buffalo ranching, I’m set from
Videos entirely explaining in measures.
I’ve got the YouTube blues.

There’s fake news, ruinous hygiene, coups,
“Health” reports, dubious travel principles,
Also poorly calculated shopping programs,
Investment “guidelines,” faded scuttlebutt.
I’ve got the YouTube blues.

Before social media popularized the sexual array,
Water molecules could both give and take without
Bothering to worry over gender-specified quotas
For tab and slots.

Today, acid or base, dominant or passive, people
Tend to flob if not directed in building molecules.
They insist their roles get cookie-cuttered, that no
Uncertainties remain.

Yet not all desiderata can be specified. Sometimes,
We can’t imagine, from bez to toes, other means of
Existing. We’re told behaviors, looks, predilections
Must rubric us.

I’m a lass. I like lads. Still, that’s no reason for me
To forego education, opinion, presence, to disdain
The parts betwixt my thighs. No “nonconformity”
Legitimizes me or my culturally amphoteric nature.

Paparazzi don’t care about heterosexual love, won’t
Advance stories of able women who profess, publish
Books, elsewise make remarks that are bothersome,
Even “provocative.”

Everything’s flags and parades while many of us,
Long past #MeToo, suffer conventionality’s grip,
Keep being told that “nice girls” can’t have brains
Or courage to confront.

It’s doubtful, hence, that my great-grandchildren
Will celebrate individuals not otherwise painted
In prescribed rainbows (how will those youngins
Validate themselves?)

In the land of lions, red/tawny cats dominate.
Those lionesses missing typical pigment get
Mauled, eaten, worse. Their cubs, similarly,
Always are murdered by old pride members.

Contrariwise, albino champions rarely get
Knocked around (Few see beneath metal
Visors.) Sunbeams, though, contact eyes,
Make miseries, prolong their bankruptcy.

Among scribes, neither missing colors nor
The lack of all hues boosts publication. If
Wordsmiths aspire to revealed cogitations,
They’re well-advised to retain all crayons.

Caring mustn’t be faff, not overcomplicated, burdensome,
A perceived waste of time. Rather, when one extends bits
Of heart, is adroit in affirming feelings, maybe, also gifts
Arits of one’s soul, there ought to be acceptance, concern.

After all, abandonment makes cades out of the best sorts
Of folks, turns ethical beings into moral monsters, tricks
Sentiment down drainpipes, into sewers, causes so many
Types of hurt and longing, makes loving appear onerous.