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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Monday, November 8, 2021

Can’t excuse my hiding from the muse

 

November 8, 2011  (I was 66)   

 

Can’t excuse my hiding from the muse

jes petering around

O’tooling around the bush

jes jazzing around

wanderin a garden with John Gardner

meta-fictionally speaking in dialect

trying on shoes sitting clueless

sitting shoeless trying on clues

jes jazzing around

The muse spews rhymes from his pocket

talks it like he was made of em

can abuse booze lose it and snooze

read news of contrary views

acute or obtuse

strain sinews

putting the screws to delusion

the fuse in confusion

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