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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Wednesday, May 12, 2021

A little girl approximately

 

May 12, 1966  (I was 21)

 

  A  little  girl  approximately

eleven with freckles and dangling

blond hair and round Keane eyes

      followed the spasmodic

         downward dashings

            of a silver pellet 

                  pinball

                       o

            Lights flashed

        springs thunked and

       bells bink bink binked

         a barrage of points

    Her fingers with bitten nails

snapped flippers and stabbed flippers

      flaunting a professional flair

With big girl ferocity banged the glass

bumper gunch and didn't jump joyously

    when the ball plunked down

                  SPECIAL 

                       O

                  WHEN LIT

She just pushed the reset to begin

the reverse score calculation spin &

flipped her hair in arrogant satisfaction

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