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, November 14, 2021

Just out the door and down the street

 

November 14, 1976  (I was 31)  

 

Just out the door and down the street

outside this literary stupor

exists a world of real people and real things

things of weight and measure bought and sold

cups of coffee drunk

boards nailed together

The newspaper is read

last night’s TV editorial is parroted

Clocks tell you where you are

straight-forward and in a hurry

Things get done business is transacted

with just the kind of people you want to see

when there is nothing more you can do with the pipes

Their every moment devoured by action aimed at purpose

people with a quick ignorance of any karma beyond next Tuesday

and a hatred of anything done for free

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