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 26, 2019

That evening as the village lay bathed in moonlight


July 26, 2012  (I was 67)

That evening as the village lay bathed in moonlight
we perched on the ore dump south of town
One beer each only wants another
Out of that egg broke a plan
Who not home had six in the fridge
Your cousin’s dad had gin and they were gone
Good cuz we could refill the bottle with water
Upstairs key under the mat easy as that
Found the bottle poured a pint in a jar
Jimmy the look-out called out Car
coming down the alley
caused a minor spill  We had enough
diluted the remains dashed down and out
ran a block and gave a shout
down to the darker Home dugout
Seven-up and Beefeater from paper cups
before we ran the bases under the sandy moon
and fell on our faces sliding into home
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