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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Saturday, March 26, 2022

creation

 

March 26, 1998  (I was 53)

 

         creation

When no dog feels to bark

when phones are unanswered even by machine

when laughter is less than an echo

when the evangelical “Gees Us”

doesn’t do that anymore

when the silent internal voice

stops speaking

when the universe hums no wave

and nothing strives to call it music

when no tooth clicks upon another

no breath whistles

nor eye flutters

God may finally be

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