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.


Comments Welcome!

Friday, July 5, 2019

At Magic Sands eight-foot waves pour ashore


July 5, 1993  (I was 48)

At Magic Sands eight-foot waves pour ashore 
dump dumb boogie boarders all over the beach
Some get out some get good
most just tumble in the soup
mahus from El Segundo
First wave I try I almost die
battered face first on unforgiving bottom
tumbling hard on twisting neck
reverberating hours later
After shower food and sun gone down
moana still plays with my equilibrium
Sand rattles my ears salt seasons my throat
and it will be years before I try to get it out
One recurring message rushes through my blood
This is the way haole necks get broke

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