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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Monday, March 26, 2018

creation


March 26, 1998  (I was 53)

            creation
When no dog feels to bark
when phones are unanswered even by machine
when laughter is less than an echo
when the evangelical “Gees Us”
doesn’t do that anymore
when the silent internal voice
stops speaking
when the universe hums no wave
and nothing strives to call it music
when no tooth clicks upon another
no breath whistles
nor eye flutters
God may finally be
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