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!

Friday, February 18, 2022

I’m gonna write a love poem

 

February 18, 1970  (I was 25)


 

I’m gonna write a love poem

be so sweet it’ll rot your teeth

I’m gonna write a love poem

and send it to ya on a Super Chief

It’ll be about flowers and bees

and it’ll make all sorts of pleas

for your:

1)    attention

2)    love

3)    etc.

Won’t you read my poem?

Please be no scoffer at my offers

Accept my lines into your home

and I’ll open up my coffers

of even golder love

to lavish upon you

like a spring rain of feathers from a dove

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