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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Saturday, September 28, 2019

Down at the vehicle house


September 28, 1975  (I was 30)

Down at the vehicle house
they congregate in the driveway.
Each day as I pass
I see the supplicating parishioners
bent over like ostriches into open hoods
of the car, station wagon, camper truck, tractor
and jeep.  They climb in and out
of the boat.  Mary and Joe Vehicle
watch the earth mover clearing more space
next to the triple stall garage whose doors
are always open.  Neighbors seem to drop by often
Young Jesse flies by on his un-muffled cycle
to give the boot to a few garbage cans
on his winding way up the hill.
His sister kicks the horse into third gear
riding bareback across the field.
These people are movers;
they are not about to ignore the salesman’s dogma
steaming off the showroom floor
They know that getting there is more
than half the fun.  This family is tuned
and running smooth.  Only a spark gap
separates their generations.

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