Author Archives: Ken Greenman

Fire would be a fine relief And God a loving fellow to release the damned from the tick-tock-tick of knowing, knowing, knowing, knowing, knowing, knowing,

or, when youive been fucking around on him, or you’ve been really enjoying fucking around on her, while the worry, fear, thoughts of consequence, lie buried deep, deep… but suddenly, in a quick seconds shock, “Fuck!”, you think, “He knows!” … Continue reading →

Hell for Elmo, our getting older cat, is the sad knowing that when she jumps the impossibly long gap from ground to raised back porch, she misses by an inch, claws rasp on cedar boards as she slides, slides to … Continue reading →

Life needs spice, but these angels know just bland. It is not Lots fault, but, I’d sooner salt.

I will not follow where you lead. I’ve seen your pale,dark faces. I will not kneel to your frozen god, nor pray in his icy places. For Sodoms fires my skin still cries. Gemmorahs passions pull me. To escape the … Continue reading →

Don’t abuse the muse, amuse the muse with glimmers she has wrought. Use the muse. So you won’t lose the muse (at least that’s what I’ve been taught.)

PROSPERO: “I wish to touch the heat again, to feel the flame, the power, to sense on skin the joy of sin to watch the passions flower.” ARIEL: “Come, old lover,take my hand. I’ll lead you thru’ infernos. (aside) (It’s … Continue reading →

Life is spaced by coffins draped in cotton, lace and silk. The graves we daily excavate, with mass productions fill. Now, I don’t believe in easy Grace (some bastards are far from God). But in those unnumbered earthy holes, quay … Continue reading →

This is April first. Still there is Winters chill. Tall, leafless trunks lean expectantly, southerly, pulled by the suns weighty creep. They long for the warmth, yet still is the cold touch. Oh! They know leafy May blooms soon, but … Continue reading →

Listen for the sense in the noise. Spring, like the birthing room, is chaos and cacophony, as Winter,like the grave, is silence. So now, comes Summer. I’m dozing in my swing squinting my ear for theme amidst all of Natures … Continue reading →