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, April 15, 2019

I knew the only way to escape


April 15, 2017  (I was 72)

I knew the only way to escape
was to go to jail so I did
minimum security for four years
The charge was gross ignorance
didn’t know enough to plead innocence
Got out took a job avoided the draft
married a different kind of conflict
fighting each day to keep it from slipping away
Planted flowers don’t hold the ground
it takes a tree with stronger roots
to keep from blowing over in the wind
Left again with nothing to do but begin
knowing no matter what you learn
how to lose more often than how to win
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