Author Archives: Ken Greenman

Oh! How romantic! Rating farts at midnight-late on a scale of 1 to 10! Chuckling whether “That One!” was a 7.5 or 8. Or at 5A.M. (the rubrics subject, now, quite flexible, though the readiness is all…) but the need … Continue reading →

As I’ve grown olderly I’ve found a new sport: Sitting Still. Yep! But though my wife encourages me to play it enthusiastically, (given my age…) sitting still is a contact sport and compared to all the other sports I’ve managed … Continue reading →

Come to by living my life, my belief in Divine, ultimately benevolent, intent and some kind of conscious continuation after my time’s-run-out, natural, built in obsolescence reaches the point of dust, is not some polemic, so old it has nearly … Continue reading →

The Grandson, a lumbering, knuckle dragging, football playing lummox, sought to establish his place in the patrio-logical line by challenging his Grand Father to an arm wrestling match. The young fellow sweetened the offer by including a ten dollar bet … Continue reading →

An early Easter-Sunday-Mornings soft breath ruffles the mirrored-surface of Lake Junaluska. On the shoreline, weeping willow branches shimmer in the breeze. A solitary leaf falls to the water, floats there, alone, precisely where Providence placed it. From there to surf … Continue reading →

A guy and his wife walk into Calaveri’s Travel Agency in Lower Manhattan. Mr. Calaveri greets them at the door and asks what he can do for the gentleman and his lovely lady? The guy says he’s promised his wife … Continue reading →

What can the quarterback, when he can no longer zing a frozen rope , 64 yards, into the waiting hands of a sprinting wide-receiver while his cheerleading, worshipful, wonderful wife performs backflips and splits in the owners box, do? Brag … Continue reading →

My wife and I are newly apprenticed to learn the hum of my electric current, to learn to restore the fraying wire running from my ever-ready mind down to my disconnected dick, lusting to rise, but, in need of the … Continue reading →

Who will be the next Countee Cullen? Jean Toomer? Langston Hughes? Who will give their own answer to the question of a dream deferred? Amanda Gorman? Who will know how to brave the current of the current deep river? Who … Continue reading →

I am caught between distain and admiration for non-Black Rappers. If they are white. do they have the right to write Rap? Sure, they own a good control of the elements, but are they missing the soul without the bloody … Continue reading →