Author Archives: Ken Greenman

“Writing poetry is tough!” he said, as he sat on the grass of the emerald outfield under a turquoise sky with a cool, early spring breeze carassesing him. His Mother offering him lines and lines of gifts if he would … Continue reading →

Fuck you!” He said it to me! Me! of all people, Me! and what I am and what I represent; To him: adult authority, unsolicited rules, unrepresented controls. To me: the person to give him a beter life than he … Continue reading →

Are thinking: environment; save the world; up the machine; road tests… all the time. Are feeling: Oh Yes! Such fellings!: Sex? Now? Not now?; Touchdown!; Ask her?; Ask him?; Zits!! Oh God not Zits!!; all the time. Are hopeing: Yesterdays … Continue reading →

Don’t worry, my dear. You”re not ugly outside until you’re ugly inside.

Out behind the Ponderosa, around the corner from Burger King, behind the Sleep Inn parking lot adjectent to Route 17 South sits a little pond, a diamond drop surrounded by the concrete of Interstate 95, a dot on Americas moving … Continue reading →

That father was a gambler never bothered mother, perhaps because he never made a bet. he just lived like time was chips, experiences, a crap shoot.

The bulwarks fall before us. First, grandpas, grandmas, great Aunt Genevieve, the olds ones who have earned their rests. I shake Fathers hand, embrace Mother, hear Uncle Normans attempt at “lightening the moment”. I kid Cousin Jeffefry in the parking … Continue reading →

If there had been between her and him an awareness of progressions, sylogistic, inevitable, if – then, if this then that, commensing with a soft accidental touch, a slight, themeless brush, back of hand to back of hand, while walking … Continue reading →

“The old man’s talkin’ to himself again!” groused Jake to Rachel, his wife. “Gonna say somethin’ t’ him ’bout how strange it is hearin’ his voice comin’ out from the trees! Gives me the willies in the mornin’s” “Please yourself, … Continue reading →

Once, when we were crazy, we made love on Mohonk Tower. Warm Autumn afternoon, hikers voices floating up to us, daring us, “Come on! Push it!” “Get up there!” “You can do it, honey!” My wife is still that bold. … Continue reading →