Author Archives: Ken Greenman

living isn’t molded. it grows like oak up and out stretching sunward gnarled, rough, knotted, scared with loves initials, its branches weighted down with two-by ply houses, swings and fraying ropes to run to, grasp, fly free from into the … Continue reading →

how the green grass grows near the rocks by the railroad tracks. there, where barrels rust, tires rot, ties pile, wire unspools, trash of a rushing world rests last, where the fringe disintergrates, the unhemmed fabric unravels, concrete walls crumble … Continue reading →

Castles in the sand should be, by right of nature,drowned, seagulls white and ruckus, surf make crunching sounds. And what’s the good of winter without a freezing snow? What’s the good of wandering if you have some place to go? … Continue reading →

After the ultimate violation, Nature protects her dead, Raccoon, rabbit,possum (not playing), letting scavenger crows peck, soil absorb guts into itself to fertilize seedling birch. But in our more concrete world, cris-crossed roads, yellow lined, white dotted, carcusses, once murdered, … Continue reading →

To be fast but not quick is to, if lucky, limp, limp, limp. If unlucky, to lie broken on gravel, the hare stares at the sun, his last vision, still there, fast frozen framed: high beam horror, very close and … Continue reading →

…and when Mother, gentle suckler behind willow, beneath lake, tired of our ignoring ignorance, screams at us,shakes us until our bones break, rocks, uncalled for, fall on us, as She rises, fists clenched in bloody, desperate self-defense, our guilt, sorrow, … Continue reading →

Already,just this morning what I’ve seen makes Cezanne blush, Monet wish he was with me, not stuck in some garden in Giverny. Wild white swans sitting on the bays thin ice as sun, cloud shrouded, cracked gray morning into silver … Continue reading →

Jemmie,black cat, approves of bifold doors. Slips paws under, yanks! hinges creak, in she stalks. Rich treasures there: shoe box stacks to unstack; fluffy hats; soft sweaters; warm dark corners. Bifold doors are targets for feline intrigue. Latched doors frustrate, … Continue reading →

who says,”stones are dead.” but bones inside my head are living like my heart, are living like my soul? who says? Drill a hole through a flat stone. Slip a hide string through the hole, knot it, and spin! spin … Continue reading →

Ignore science. Accept the light the moon offers. Recognize that certain beauty. Admit our glaring sun and full bright day hold no corner on enlightenent. The moon’s the source! What an unbidden burdeon that would be, to loose. Imagine our … Continue reading →