I don’t write in a journal everyday, but I have accumulated many entries over the past 50+ years beginning in 1966. Some items evolved into longer works. Among the leftovers little pieces survived. I thought a collection of these with a piece culled from the same date in a past year would make an interesting yearbook. The consistencies and inconsistencies of mind, skipping back and forth across time, provide varied perspectives. It is difficult to remember the context of the past we’ve lived; we also make suppositions about times that predate ourselves.

The few alterations from original drafts were to improve clarity. The worst of my work is not included. There remains enough mediocrity and immaturity to make me feel humble and you feel smart. There are also moments of accidental insight and incidental humor.

Author Stephen Crane referred to his little pieces as pills…apparently they were small and somewhat hard to swallow, but good for you.


Comments Welcome!

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

poem by freak in zoo


June 14, 1971 (I was 26)

poem by freak in zoo

They come to see me not by plan but by style
and their faces look so sickly
hidden behind a struggled smile

Betrayed by Curiosity hurriedly they pass
and I try to show them a soul
with my face pressed against the glass

They follow the call of Calliope out the canvas door
and they forget the wasted ticket
lying on the sawdust floor

I sit alone again now in my corner of the zoo
and wonder if there is anything more
a freak can hope to do

  -coming June 16, response from zoo visitor
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