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, January 2, 2022

I keep trying to play it tight

 

from this week in 1972 (I was 27)

 

I keep trying to play it tight

trying to hang the notes just right

and you stand there with all your might

reminding me about last night

 

“Outasite Outasite

“Obaby you’re just my height”

 

I pet the dog but I don’t bite

I see the string hung on the kite

The meat’s in the trap but I’m not quite

Baby you ain’t no Afrodite

 

“Ah c’mon honey let’s not fight

“you gotta say I’m dark white”

 

Do you know my brother Dwight?

Someone called him a parasite

What do you mean when you say unite?

Look at me babe, you seein’ the light?

 

“Yeah man, de light delight

“I see de-light”

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