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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Wednesday, March 30, 2022

This is America

 

from this week in 2021  (I was 76)

 

This is America

there is no elephant in the room

it's a white whale

and creatures beneath the surface

prey on one another

never really knowing exactly

where they are each

a most unreliable narrator of the other

pursuing and pursued by an unseen greatness

on a rough but textured empty canvas

filled by winds of an uncharted voyage

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