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, December 10, 2021

getaway

 

December 10, 2006  (I was 62)

 

                  getaway

Around the corner up the alley behind the bandstand

skid to a stop in the dirt nobody hurt

Off the bikes hearts laugh divide the loot

raspberries and rhubarb crab apples and carrots

And what if we get caught  We did not

What if we get caught  We did not

 

South of town drive the cars

drink the beer smoke cigars

take out the guns shoot some rats

break some glass and make a wish

to be the ones who might get out

if we were lucky enough not to get caught

 

The cold was a trap the woods a trap

the mines were empty holes

you could fall into a life so small

if you didn’t look out you had it all

but you don’t look back when you don’t get caught

around the corner up the alley and we did not

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