http://slow.writerscafe.org/WhitherKenKortas The original writings of author W.k.kortas en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776000751 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Hehad not, so the general consensus decreed,Heldup his end of the bargain;Customdictated that once one had receivedIfnot full absolution, a degree of dispensationItwas incumbent on the recipient Toacknowledge of the communal munificence,Preferablywith a suitably.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2829486/ They’dhad him dead to rights for poisoning the well,Leastwise as far as they reckoned,Hisfingerprints all over the pail(Notthe only set, but there in a goodly number nonetheless)Andfootprints more-or-less conformingTohis boots in size and treadAndperhaps a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2824185/ Heis unsure at this point if the soft pings and dingsWhichinflict themselves upon his earsArecourtesy of the wired-up grotesqueriesStuffedcheek-to-jowl by his bedsideOrfrom the ubiquitous phone perched forlornly next to him(Evenat this stage, he has his inevitable new.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2820786/  OurSweeney nurses his Falstaff,Joininghis hail-and-well-met fellows in mirthThisman of hearty life and laugh,Hisfingernails rife with the stuff of earth and labor.Outside,the moon’s reflectionUpon the sluggish and slatternly CanisteoIsa portentous .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2811126/ Knowthis--I am well acquainted with the wolf,Wellversed in his ways, his demeanor:Hisdispassionate relentlessness, Hispitiless focus on hunt and hunted,Hisworkaday disdain of pity.Thereare those who would laud the mythical Spartan ladWho hidthe beast beneath his.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2805283/ He'd lived in the remaining house on the little byway,The place and its existence somewhat accidentalAs it was built as the groundskeeper's cottageAccompanying a rambling edificeBuilt by a former president of the mill,That once-grand structure gone to rack and ruinNothing remaining save the odd bit .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2803271/ Step lively, now, as good news is not of a mindTo wait upon delay and ditheringNor to pay any heed to your day's peculiar graceThe ticket for your promised landIs one-way only, and you need to clutch itFor all you are worth, and travel light;If it don't fit in a paper sack, you don't need to take it.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2802715/ There is a certain shock, not from the silence itselfBut of its revelations, the laying bareOf the utter superfluence of languageIn all which unfolds before us, the testament muteBut imbued with all the power of an orchestraIn full-throated fortissimoDelivered through the panorama of the vast s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2801659/ The truck was crushed and dentedAlmost beyond recognitionWhen the county boys reached the scene(Though, as one of the deputies remarked,Having seen the vehicle tottering around townFor virtually all his born daysStill ain’t much worse than when it started)Apparently having slid off the Stamfor.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2801458/ There were a surfeit of itemsSufficient to raise eyebrows or cause commentAmong the few staid members of the Mulligan clan:The appearance of siblings or cousins assumed (or at least hoped)To have preceded Thomas to the choir invisibleTwo or three women genuinely surprisedTo discover the existence of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2800080/ He had, when it became clear The dog was on his last legs,Went to a canine memorial concern,One of those somewhat well-intentioned marketing brainstorms Which operated under the assumptionThat what was good enough for master was good enough for Fido,And the folks who ran the place dressed in dark su.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2782546/ He’d been able, after some gentle persistence,To wheedle his way into the place(He’d been vaguely recognized by the caretaker,A certain affable familiarity his stock in trade, after all)And he had been decidedly deliberate in his search for the shoes,Though he’d been quite certain .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2776621/ She would never dream of arriving at a sessionLooking like a first take--not like the bass playerWith his shirt collar rising and rollingLike some unplanted meadow on an Upstate hillside,Or the trumpeter whose ancient corduroysHave not seen a pressing in months if ever,Or the sad young man at the mi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2769846/ It was a trip which was essential, one supposes,Though the notion that one must parseWhich forays into the outdoors Require self-justification(If we are short on milk, can one linger onTo peruse beer or chips, or gaze longinglyAt the ground beef and chicken breastsPriced into the lofty realm of the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2760671/ These gatherings had become somewhat regular,A short drive for most involved,Having stayed behind once the mill closed(There were the odd out-of-state license plates,Mostly Florida and the Carolinas,The vehicles' occupants sporting incongruous tans,And they were treated with a certain reserve,As if .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2620297/ His wife no longer argues the pointWhen he announces that Tommy is stopping by,Simply bringing forth a woebegone soundReminiscent of a November wind wending its wayThrough a stand of denuded poplars,As she knows the upshot of his visits(A couple days of hangovers where he is of little use to her,An .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/2313734/ There werechildren, sweethearts,shared Moscows, Odessas,So I whispered Ready, aim butnot fire. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1959556/ The acquisition of a sonWith an adequatecorporeality, albeit with certain caveats,Certain limitations in termsof progeny and posterity,Had awaken something in theold man,Certain forces leading him tothe altarAnd, subsequently, to thenursery once more(A second so.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1955904/ Itscolor sat somewhere on the spectrum between brown and gray(Suchthings being dependent on vagaries of the light, Andthe perspective of the beholder)Andit served as a testament to the muted benefits of near adequacy,Beingtoo thin for the portentous winds of December,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1945821/ We do not, perhaps, expect the very sky To descend upon us, all chunks and wedgesAs it did upon the simple, deluded chickOf the nursery rhyme of long ago(A child’s verse, perhaps, but promulgatedand purveyedBy those older, perhaps wiser, yet still whollyunableTo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1942951/ It is undeniable,when in the embrace of the great pipe organAt thevenerable old Episcopal church on Third Street,Or whollyencircled by Tiffany-issue stained glassAt St. Joe’sin South Troy (ostensibly the “ironworker’s church”,But giftedwith its i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1938445/ It isdecommissioned, off-limits, outright verboten,Yet is traversednonetheless,Its patrons amix of the pruriently curious,Thethrill-seeker, the merely woebegone.As they havetime on their side,The hub-bub ofschool buses and suburban commutersNo concern asthey.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1935204/ Bovine-like,we shall meet our deaths(Such is thescythe the reaper wields)No matter thatthe final breathsCome instockyards or placid fields.A slightrustle, perhaps, we’ll feelAt the loss ofour distant kin;Another gear,another wheel.Ohwell--that&rs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1913615/ They fall upon us over the spillways of time,Burbling at us through some Radio FreeNostalgiaCourtesy of some college station sitting atthe far left of the dialOr streaky CDs at the rear of some forlornshelf,And we know them to be to be, if not outrightfalsehoods,Among.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1869229/ If you put the question to,say, one Ben Haramed,He would, as befits a wilyold desert jackal, Find such notions of faithand fidelity quite amusing--  (Following stars in search of something ephermal, With no fixed exchange rate? Will these specks of light find y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1861652/ We’d make thejourney, Hannibal-esque in nature,Either on foot(even on the most dogged of the dog daysWhen theantidiluvian tar on our side street would bubble up,Causing oursneakers to make a rhythmic flik-wumpUntil we reachedthose byways deemed worthy of asphalt).. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1860493/ There was, every spring, a new batch of pups,Yipping, nipping, clumsy balls of nappy fur, Looking for all the world like speckled tennisballsBefore they’d learned any hard lessons at thehands of a racquet.They chased their tails and each other, Not to mention variou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1855990/ Theywalk--no, more likely, they saunter,Embassyfunctionaries, associate profs at G-Dub,A smorgasbord of polka dots and vitae,Leopard-printand Linkedin pages,Sufficentand necessary in their presents and futures.I occupy abench in my own shambling manner,Denim-cla.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1840131/ Tanks rollImplacably;Radio Free Europeplays “On Broadway”, ode to pawnshops,pimps, w****s. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1832689/ She slumped by the archway of the chapel,Forlorn, beaten in fact;She had come to these grounds from Plattsburgh,(Cold, martial little city home to General Wood’s summerflings)To lay a wreath she’d bought at the train station atBayeuxPurchased from a women at a sma.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1831047/ It was one of those placeswhich,We were told with stern facesand tonesAnd the occasional smack to thebutt,That we were not to go,A place of childhood sing-song(River man, river manHe’llsink his teeth right in your can)And, later, of clandestinebeers and sm.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1821393/ You would not,as a rule, find her ilk in these parts;Indeed, fratboys from the state school from a few blocks off,Failing to heedthe subtle changes inherent in the urban landscape,Willoccasionally stumble into this where-they-don’t-want "to-beAnd, paying noheed to.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1810739/ He was holding court betweensets at the Texas Bar(Not his usual stompinggrounds, necessarily,But the owner was a decent guywhose checks were good,And a Wednesday night gigpretty much found money)Going slow and easy with ascotch and soda of uncertain labels,Having co.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1804624/ It had been, indeed almostconstantly so,Spotted and dotted with the oddbit of graffiti:Hastily spray-painted citing ofsome school’s graduating class,Irregularly shaped heartsbearing initials of couplesWhose undying fealty would notlast the summer,The odd carto.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1799169/ They are ornamented with coins, small colored stones,The occasional personal items-- wrinkled and ancient baseball cards,Weathered photos of aunts or grandfathers,Talismans offered pharaoh-like, though for more ordinary passages,Humbler bestowals for lesser men,And the trees leave their own alm.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1782945/ He’dnever read him, understand, or at least not that he’d remembered;Hemight have half-skimmed something in Lookor Esquire,Buthe certainly wasn’t much for novels, Asthere were kids to raise to rise, a war to fight(Hisplatoon had been pinned down at A.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1778525/ Ourwandering and searching has led us here again,AsApril sloughs off winter and takes us by the hand.(Wehave had as tutors fishes, birds, and sons of men.) Thelong night of our iciness has served to lessenOurfaith in fields, the rationale of the pine standO.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1762833/ She noted, grimlycognizant of though unamused by the irony,That her likeness, orsomething akin to that,Appeared on theposter--a gray-clad strong and vibrant womanReaching, in concertwith her comrades(One woman in a whitecoat, a man in overalls and requisite cap,Stil.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1758408/ They sit in the humblest offrames,Faux wood-grained plasticgrotesqueriesPurchased long ago from somedoomed Grants or Bradlees,Though one or two enjoysomething nicer,Left behind by somelong-timer taking a buyoutOr a sympathetic youngsterdenied tenure(She has, f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1751882/ There’s no love that’s forever true,No guarantee he’ll stand by you.Heed well, then, what I have to say;You keep that boy six feet away. It’s in his worst nature to roam;Ensure he’ll always stay at home.Make it impossible to stray;.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1743162/ You ask, child, what tells us when one is the one,As if it were calculus or game of chance;May as well try to grade brightness of the sun,Timbre of the horn, the lightness of the dance.I would gladly offer formula or sumOr another device of science or art,Bu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1733219/ Theyrarely bother to mow here anymore,Oncea month, perhaps every other(Timesare tight, full burials being pretty muchAthing of the past these days)Thoughit’s unlikely anyone would noticeIfthe grass grew a bit longish, Orthe crownvetch and crabgrass bec.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1732113/ I do notknow that man, but he looks like an enemy of the people.Not the strangest assertion I had ever hearduttered in these sessions,And normally I may not have even looked up toidentify the speaker,But as the voice belonged to a woman, I chancedto raise eyes upwardJust .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1727151/ She pushed her veil aside and tilted her head upward, Not seeking comfort or benediction,Only to confirm what she damn well knew was happening,That the skies, full of gray and grim portent if notoutright malice,Had picked this very time to begin steadily dripping,Signaling .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1723351/ Well, perhaps not.  Oh, you’ll have your little roar,And you’ll get a brief glimpse of life as a man,But, just as quickly, you’ll be just likebefore,Befuddled on your couch, right where youbegan,And, besides, you wanted to watch the ballgameOr that .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1720069/ She is lying on her side,propped up on one elbow(Her visits are infrequent,always unannounced,But welcome all the same, moreor less)Affecting a smile which is asadorable as it is inscrutable,Abed with but not quite nextto me, As she insists on a bundlingboard betw.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1718356/ Three days, is what the HR repsaid, somewhat sheepishly,Asif she was fully aware that boxing up one’s griefIna span of a few dozen hours is a matter of wishful thinkingAta time when both are in short supply, Andcertainly she sympathizes (Indeed,as she speaks.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1713943/ We had dalliances with shining dreams, ofcourse;Our Gatsby-esque timetables, those solemnpactsWith ourselves, which fell about us with bruteforceBitter pills to get down, yes, but facts arefacts;We’re everything average that we onceforeswore,(Exceptional only .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1702967/ She ambles, cautious, methodical(In her world, there is no timeand placeFor something so frivolous astraipsing)Through narrow and informaltrails which criss-crossThe slump-shouldered hills abovetown,Thick pine stands obscuring theabandoned woolen mill,The ungain.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1697187/ Their natural habitats varywidely, as they are an adaptable lot:Sometimes a sufficientlysurreptitious booth in a bar on the main stem, Poring over a gaggle ofRacing Forms, Perhaps a convenient lightstanchion just inside the track’s main gate,Maybe even behind some.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WhitherKenKortas/1691728/