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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Saturday, July 10, 2021

The house has become a terminal

 

from this week in July, 2004 (I was 59)

 

The house has become a terminal

with homey conveniences but a shortage of parking

Who’s in for how long and where are they going next

Time enough to get some laundry done

but not enough to schedule electrical repairs

Feed the cats and keep them in the hanger at night

It’s the little things you can’t do half a hemisphere away

There the picture appears larger

in wider perspective and broader citizenship

We find ourselves in closer proximity  

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