Author Archives: Ken Greenman

At last! The Ape rose from His knees, after millenniums of agonies struggling to control chaos, He knew what He had to create, slowly, over coming centuries: Certainties. Iron chain grids slid down over the murderous clan that was his … Continue reading →

Strings of sparklin’ silver lights luminate palm trees in the night. Short-sleeved carolers’ southern drawls sing send-ups to Bing Crosby, ” I’m dreamin’ of a White Christmas” (with not a hint of irony) wishin’ us, “Merry Christmas, Y’all!!” A blue … Continue reading →

I can’t wait for some future someone to uncover, in the huge garbage dump the earth will have become, the address label from my most recent New Yorker Magazine. Though faded and stained by the soot and soil it will … Continue reading →

There! And again, there! In an icy forests darkness, akin to blindness, or eyes squeezed shut for fear of something, stalking near, a flicker. Firefly? Fairy? Just ahead, a shape shifter glimmer floating forward or, as easily, circling me around … Continue reading →

She, felt, you first. Then you knew her long enough to reach the age she was when first, she, met, you. And then some! And in those heart beats, grew your comradeship of blood. Genes groom us to feel, as … Continue reading →

Racket! Roar! The battles rumble pounds down my study door. The gentility of the waltz, erased by the rave. Passions delicate subtleties degenerate to rape. The diplomats deliberations devolve into the screeches of an ape. The joyous in a festival … Continue reading →

During my immortal pre-adolescence, it was a self-authenticated truth: Brussel Sprouts were nasty! Neither tasty nor healthy. Just as I was positive, in my childhood, of the repugnance of spinach. (To Hell with Pop-eye!) Later, I aged into the belief … Continue reading →

I gleaned from the road side, pieces of purple passion, broken and smouched by an errant tire. I filled 6 ounce plastic cups with 4 ounces of water, trimmed the browning stems till green appeared, placed them in cups on … Continue reading →

In the confluence of serendipitous, commodious circumstances, there is a rainbow in our commode: a long, thin, rectangular, east-facing window above our deep, tiled, no-curtain-needed, shower; a crystal ball, as small as a golf ball, suspended from that window; a … Continue reading →

I’m having a talk with me about planting a tree on the fringes of my property. And not just any tree. It’s a Live Oak, cousin to the stately oaks from my former northern home in New York State, but … Continue reading →