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!

Saturday, August 22, 2020

The politician is no artist

 

from this week in August, 1972  (I was 27)

 

The politician is no artist

expediency does not allow it

he is in a hurry

between Fairbanks and Little Rock

he has airplane disorientation

as he reads speeches written by a man

who used to be a switchboard operator

 

His thoughts no longer mix with his dreams

as he drifts slowly conscious this morning

examining sunlit greens upon trees.

 

He is awake already

organizing and plotting with top advisors

He has the computed pulse consensus

the voting public opinion upon the key issues

The speech writer is busy he types

 

This is a man of the people

or a man of a sizeable percentage

He does TV commercials for us

 

Spread the margarine become a king

Drop bread in the toaster

Vote for him and hope he’ll remember

once he gets to sleep in November

that virtuosity opens opportunity for art

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