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.


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Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Uncle Joe he was nothing to his kids


from this week in February 2009  (I was 68)

Uncle Joe he was nothing to his kids
and even less to me
To his widowed sister
a demanding asshole who thought
he should be mayor
but by proclamation not election
There was nothing he did not know
including the lack of a stupid majority
even in a town that small
so he moved and took his intelligence
to a place where no one could find it
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