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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Friday, July 23, 2021

So it is just a waiting game

 

July 23, 2008  (I was 63)

 

So it is just a waiting game

reduced to non-entity without a name

From the specific again to the general

the embodiment to the ephemeral

 

The building of nothing from the sublime

structure of now in the ever of time

The moon and howl not cause and effect

inflection and vowel not damned and elect

 

What can wait longest before it takes a turn

when the inevitable steers it astern

Edible red fruit reduced to seed

Was there a garden was there a need

 

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