"Map #1" from 2024, paired with a hay-na-ku poem, "Patchwork" from somewhat less recently. I hope you like them:
I have
in my own
way
threaded my
own needle, sewn
my
own oats
wild or not
stayed
in my own
groove
(not to
say stuck I
hope)
though lately
there is a
certain
sameness to
it all, given
a
definite aging
that for the
present
seems to
continue pretty nicely
overall
considering how
much patchwork life
requires
From around 1965, a very elevated period of my life. I was young and full of energy, working as a reporter at the Concord Transcript and writing poetry. Herewith, an example of my poetry in those days along with an early sketch. Enjoy!
DOCTOR! DOCTOR! DOCTOR!
Somebody call me a doctor!
I think I have a malady!
And besides, I always
wanted to be
a doctor.
HELP!
SOMEBODY CALL ME A DOCTOR!
RIP Bob Weir ... guess this one's appropriate to the era we came up in with its reference to Wavy (Hugh Romney) ...
Tablecloths Memo
These papers must be kept intact at all costs ... very important! ... very im - POR - tant! ... no other strength ... no stranger strength ... lift up your voices and SING! ... no stronger strains ... no better refrains ... fragments of oilcloth ... kitchen tables distantly past ... sounds of wet dishcloths swiped back and forth across soiled surfaces of tablecloths of yore ... tablecloths of yours ... diving into distant past leap by synaptic leap ... in a nano-instant ... must be kept intact! ... im - POR - tant! ... fragile as old photos ... do not fold, bend or mutilate ... IM -POR - TANT!
