KJ Hannah Greenberg
An Oleh’s Chanukah Habayit
                                    
                                     Next to the hardware store’s
Roach traps,
Florescent-labeled tubes of paste alternate;
Death, and hygiene, on a single shelf.

Jerusalem’s lights, Routes 1, and 443,
Flicker,
Precious, holy, sandstone montage interrupted
By charvai Aravim.

I distrust CNN;
That American news fits gas concessions.
That continent’s addiction,
Denies her sibling’s abuse.

Someday, I’ll “graduate;” Kita Gimmel
When my essays open wings, maybe,
I will buy the white drain board,
Stuck next to the faux crystal.



          
  Channie Greenberg's most recent work has appeared in: The Jerusalem Post, Calligraphy, Hamodia, The Externalist, Type-A Moms, Fallopian Falafel Zine, The Clarity of the Night, and Tuesday Shorts. In the near future, her articulated irreverence will be published by: Poetica Magazine, Bewildering Stories, Doorknobs and Bodypaint, and The Mother Magazine.

When not engaged in wordplay, Channie paints, builds ceramics, and supplies small spatulas to imaginary hedgehogs. She also dreams about the day when her children will correctly sort the laundry.
                                               
                                                 © KJ Hannah Greenberg All Rights Reserved