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!

Tuesday, September 3, 2019

Chained Linkage


September 3, 2012  (I was 67)

         Chained Linkage
Walking in the shadow of chain link fence
bordering the perimeter of the park
separated from a culvert ditch
and another fence on its opposite bank
vision grounded narrowly ahead
it is not difficult to fathom a prison yard
It is not difficult to call up crimes
in my life of criminal behaviors
for which many in this world would
incarcerate and torture my infidelity
   I have believed in the wrong religion
   I have believed in no religion
   I own banned books
   I foster conspiracy theories
   I have discussed crimes my government commits
   I am aware of crimes my government commits
     (and I tell no one)
   I don’t pledge allegiance
   I have pledged allegiance
   I have trafficked in contraband
   I don’t care who marries whom
   I’ve been divorced
   I remarried
   I own property
   I eat the wrong meat
     (with the wrong hand)
   I don’t cover my head
   I am unaware of what it takes to save myself
Yet here I am on the park side of the fence
On the park side of the fence
walking in the shadow of chain link
is the only sentence I serve
for the crimes I share with others
the other side of my fence

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