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, March 26, 2019

This is the Drug Abuse Workshop


March 26, 1974  (I was 29)

This is the Drug Abuse Workshop
After school the bells are still ringing,
the teachers will not come to order.
“This is the drug abuse workshop:
on your 3x5 card write
5 causes (person or societal) of drug abuse-
that is, list 5 factors leading to drug abuse.
If your 3x5 is white go to room 7
yellow go to 8
green to 10 blue 11
and goldenrod stays here for discussion.”
I go out to the car and smoke a joint.

Out in the canyon
the green road curves around the swollen creek
and the railroad has secret tunnels.
A lone bicyclist braces the wind around the bend
then buys it, like a hawk falling out of a stall
downwind.  Tight muscles are stretched loose.
Miniature steamboats could steam through the spring chutes.
I pass the cyclist in the silence of a passing train
rushing into an abrupt tunnel
away from the roaring birds.

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