Kenneth Elliott

#01 May 1999, 1999

Bucolic Memory by Kenneth Elliott

You made your lovers’ songs thin with malice Those summer days we danced waist to waist In grass high as our navels and milky with summer Blowing locust flaps and Sirocco reed sounds. I would not sit down. I wanted to leave the crawling life, and did not care That your friend made love on […]

#01 May 1999, 1999

Frogs by Kenneth Elliott

I took her to the marsh edge at night’s threshold. The frogs cricked and moaned and I was flustered and apologetic. “I wanted to take you someplace quiet.” She adjusted her shirt, cocked her head, and smiled. Crickets sawed their legs off, and some kind of water bird screamed in the distance. Screaming.  Screaming in

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