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.


Comments Welcome!

Sunday, August 1, 2021

on a black jagged island

 

August 1, 2011  (I was 66)

 

on a black jagged island

we drive between verdant oases

one road goes round

other road goes up and down

past pleasures tell us where to go

different kind water different kind fish

stream drops through orchids and trees

scenic road with one-lane bridge over pool

where local boys always leap to act

in our home movies laughing and signing shaka

we stop this year no boys just quiet water falling

one orange painted rock say R.I.P. Ernesto 7/11/11

we go back to car with slow attitude

everywhere you walk here some flower falls before you

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