I used to think I was close

February 2, 2002  (I was 57)

I used to think I was close

making the starting backfield

getting an undergraduate degree

leaving the putt an inch short

persistent enough to fill enough pages

while keeping my day job my real job

I was not getting there directly

but systematically eliminating error by trial

eventually erasing shortcomings

Technique is not necessarily refined by repetition

Knowledge may fill a vacuum

but the vacuum does not discriminate

and thoughts sucked up in smoke

may just cloud up the void

I used to think in terms of daily increments

compounded interest service station refills

Reviews of restaurants

were elements of directions that led somewhere

haute cuisine

I had thought to gain continuity

a performance of perfunctory tasks

I saw as a worth of measureable comfort

Wrong-headed misapplied and un-ambitious

the ideas the tasks the goals

Self-delusional assessments now recognized

embitter my demeanor  

A salvation if I could find the will to pursue it

lies in the recognition of accomplished lives

outside my little room