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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Monday, January 25, 2021

The Smoking of the Universal Joint

 

January 25, 1974  (I was 29)

 

The Smoking of the Universal Joint

 

The dip stick was dry

and there was oil all over hell

I was a defeated man

so I left it there down at the garage

I went to Ben’s for a beer and a pepperoni

sat on the bench in front of the store

Windy as hell too blowing dust

The damn thing smoked like hell

The mechanic was the garage owner’s son

overworked and pissed off

He could bury it for all I cared

Damn rolling jail

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