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, January 9, 2018

I did not do it


January 9, 1998  (I was 43) 

I did not do it
with the correct perceptible sincerity
nor with the consistency of integrity
I did not do it
with adherence to recognizable convention
certainly not with firm conviction
did not do it for anyone else
even when I thought it might be
I did not do it with compassion
not with melodious voice
not with humble inquiry seeking truth
nor the soft postures of wisdom
not in hope of immortality
hope of love
I did not
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