I don’t remember when I wrote my first poem. I remember as a child I read voraciously everything I could get my hands on: Dickinson, Frost, Hawthorne, Shakespeare, Bacon and so many more.
As a mountain-bound child reading was my only escape. This was many years before TV came to our town. I remember writing snippets of prose and poetry but my first real attempt was in 1969 and is the opening of this romp through life.
The prose and poetry span stages of life that I have passed through on the way to this book. The long gaps in time between manifestations of my “stuff” are explained better by psychologists than me.
I have thought long and hard about organizing this book in some sort of order. I have decided on random chaos. My work covers everything from cats to shelf paper, the great outdoors, work, sport, relationships and cancer. I have thrown in some political points and some random thoughts. Some I have categorized as “way out there.” I’m sure the discerning reader will be able to figure out “which is what.”
Bear with me and enjoy!
—John Merck
