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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Thursday, July 1, 2021

A dynamite blast shakes the town

 

July 1, 1976  (I was 31)

 

A dynamite blast shakes the town

If I were home I’d think the fault had shifted

5 point O on the Richter –I’d blame God

This shook the foundation

the concussion rattled the windows

even at some distance

like standing in front of a big pedal bass drum

If I’d a been in Berkeley

I’d a thought they got the Bank of America again

This is Keewatin

and that is iron ore

exploded in dry clots from the pit

lifted and hauled out in shovels trucks and trains

by sanguine physicians of the stainless steel economy

When I rumbled in with a noisy tailpipe

nobody even heard

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