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!

Thursday, August 1, 2019

on a black jagged island


August 1, 2011  (I was 66)

on a black jagged island
we drive between verdant oases
one road goes round
other road goes up and down
past pleasures tell us where to go
different kind water different kind fish
stream drops through orchids and trees
scenic road with one-lane bridge over pool
where local boys always leap to act
in our home movies laughing and signing shaka
we stop this year no boys just quiet water falling
one orange painted rock say R.I.P. Ernesto 7/11/11
we go back to car with slow attitude
everywhere you walk here some flower falls before you
Posted by at
Labels: ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)