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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Wednesday, August 22, 2018

The politician is no artist


from this week in August, 1972  (I was 27)

The politician is no artist
expediency does not allow it
he is in a hurry
between Fairbanks and Little Rock
he has airplane disorientation
as he reads speeches written by a man
who used to be a switchboard operator

His thoughts no longer mix with his dreams
as he drifts slowly conscious this morning
examining sunlit greens upon trees.

He is awake already
organizing and plotting with top advisors
He has the computed pulse consensus
the voting public opinion upon the key issues
The speech writer is busy he types

This is a man of the people
or a man of a sizeable percentage
He does TV commercials for us

Spread the margarine become a king
Drop bread in the toaster
Vote for him and hope he’ll remember
once he gets to sleep in November
that virtuosity opens opportunity for art


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