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Whether Equine or Strigine

by Channie Greenberg

Whether equine, or strigine, whether of skies or grand pastures, mostly, visitors to virtue
Will come away with more than brilliant pictures; they: laugh a loud in places where one
Might, ordinarily: hold shy, hiccup (until rolling over in mirth), regard “secrets” as though
No one else is bounded, show facial glee for plastic bags of milk, ignore zebra crossings,
Lizards seek asylum in kitchen cabinets. Elsewise, they’re forced to survive housecats.

Whereas small European and North American presses are loath to sign Middle Eastern
Authors, tropological words mean so much to the majority of global denizens. After all,
In the New World, when regarding almonds’ fuzzy green outer peel, bargaining for socks,
Encouraging a doctor to write an unnecessary script, low-context, verbal-oriented motes
Remain the norm (brumbies, too, seek lives free of putrescence no matter the relative costs).

Before children fledge, vacationers pack toothbrushes in their carry-ons, but leave back
Their Waterpiks, as well as their magical memories of holy places viewed through lens.
Just as taste in art varies, likewise do “reasons” for ethnic conflict. Some allude intellects
Produce and distribute “rhetorical messes.” Others insist that an international willingness
To experience but not to notice how ecolinguists’ ideas convey poor peace prospects.

Even when not meaning to raise mouths’ corners, certain gaffes become the equivalent
Of smarmy grins, blurring the beauty otherwise beheld by generations-old compassion.
(Recipes for hummus are insufficient souvenirs for travels making outings among good
Men.) Rather, transforming through revising claims phonier than cubic zirconium could,
Perchance, stir the planet; our tribute to monotheistic fidelity is more than long overdue.

Copyright © 2020 by Channie Greenberg

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