Author Archives: Ken Greenman

mediocre is the best we’ve got. All the “A’s” you’ve earned are camoed “C’s”. The mere assumption of your whiteness is all you need to succeed. The “Best” is graded on the curve with its bar set low. What then … Continue reading →

He, a man sans secrets. She, a melding of mysteries. With him, what you saw was what was. With her, the ground she stood upon was a maybe, unsubstantial. Always the question of whether it would hold solid under the … Continue reading →

The dragonfly danced his drunken zig-zag above my backyard grass, forth and back, until he tacked, one last time and settled on a solitary dandelion , his electric blue and red body glowing against yellow. There he lit, wafting on … Continue reading →

Never construe the route you have created day by year by life to be your path tomorrow. Change charges into your day, uninvited, leaving your road in rubble, all signals smashed, squeed street sign arrows pointing east instead of north, … Continue reading →

We don’t all live on the dark side of the moon. Some dwell in mountain shadows there, but just in sight of the glimmers of light on the horizon. Some abide on its sparkling edge. Some have rushed across the … Continue reading →

From the soil beneath the Most Holy Place, mixed with desert dirt, rises the protecting Golem of Israel. His war cry, “Israel is the Golem of the Jews! And I am the Golem of Israel!” He waits in the cellars … Continue reading →

through grey steel clouds cold rained-on-day “ONKH! ONKH!” Canada Geese far off, heading away again. And again, another day, distant echoes call. corn-stalk stumped tractor-tire pitted fields scour sky, can’t distinguish directions, locations, only far off becomings till, etched cross … Continue reading →

at last again the trumpets of gathering geese so early in dawn’s mist so early in summer’s heat already the stirrings deep in the hearts, “Come on! Come on! We’re going! We’re gone!” Early morning rehearsal of the great tide … Continue reading →

I LOVE MY WIFE. And there are moments in our life I don’t like. One is the making of the bed. Yes, we are obsessive about the need for neat in the morning enterprises. So, at every rising, we team … Continue reading →

Once upon a time, when I was four I sat on the potty-seat pooping while Daddy shaved. When I finished, I stood up, stared between my legs, then looked up to Daddy and asked, “How can so much shit come … Continue reading →