Medford lakes New Jersey

My parents and me visited AP at Medford Lakes

late 1950’s early 1960’s

AP family was huge, mostly boys

wondered what it would be like to…

My father was told he could move in but not be Jewish


Strange what you remember from a half century gone

a half century gone

remembered it was Medford also Medford Lakes

remember we stopped going to visit

don’t remember why


don’t remember why

the old man held on to his WW2 navy friends

the old lady didn’t really care but….

the kid was about to enter his anti-war time

don’t think he ever left it

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How we spent the Day June 2nd, 2023

We had planned to go to Mod India, Delco’s best Indian Restaurant, for a while. That we would eventaully reach one hundred degrees on the second day of June, the second day of June. Well, we had planned today and “that was our story and we sticking to it.”, as was the watchword in South Philly.

After the hour drive and the hour and a half meal, it was now mid-afternoon and we drove the one block to Saffron Indian Grocery and spent way too much money on our groceries.


On the way to Wolff’s Apple house, we got caught in an emergency involving someone’s burning car and waited a while. However, since we only had to wait, and were not involved in the burning car, this was just a part of our day. We eventaully got there and thence, to home.

We listened to the latest Inside Europe Podcast, (Deutsche Welle), which had a fantastic feature on what really happens to trash from Britain. I burn CD’s of favorite podcasts so we can listen while driving. Because the Sirius Radio Classical Station (076) played the 76 favorite symphonies without Beethoven on the last few days/nights, today was all Beethoven all day all ight, all 9 Symphonies.

Last night we watched “The Adventures of Don Juan” from Netflix DVD, eith Errol Flynn. Look up Jerry Austin › magazine › 1939 › 01 › 14 › mighty-mite

Mighty Mite. | The New Yorker

who was also in this movie. Since the promised rain is yet to come, we will go out and water the garlic. We grow garlic due to the vampire problem in Swarthmore which noone wants to talk about.

Heard a great line from the 4/18 Today in Parliament podcast. “ride the back of the scorpion”.

We now go and tend our garlic.

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Alphie’a ashes

Now we have Alphie’s Ashes

now we know he lives in the past

and yet…and yet…

we can only remember

we can’t remember to forget


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Our four backyard chickens

So we have three red and silver

we choose not to name them

but we know them

do they know us

as they root for worms


as they root for worms

and go about their daily lives

as we do ours

as we do ours

more rooting than thinking


not sure what to learn from chickens

maybe just to enjoy life

while you have life to enjoy

and always remember

the best places for worms

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Last night I had a “drunk dream”

except I wasn’t the one drunk

it was GS, who I used to work with

and we never liked each other

for reasons now unknown


for reasons now unknown

in my dream, (he can tell you

about his dream when he will)

he was in the process of being fired

or at least placed on suspension


or at least placed on suspension

noone who worked for the state

then, could ever really be fired

Had Charlie Manson been a state employee

he would still be on “leave without pay”


Last night I had someone else’s drunk dream

Don’t know if he ever had one

Don’t know if he should have

Don’t know why I had this dream

Do you know why I had this dream?

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All we had left were the remains

some of which we kept

some of which we kept

most of which were left

on the sidewalk of history


Alphie remains in our hearts

in the visions inside our heads

in the vision inside our head

but the physical he has left

we don’t know about the rest


There won’t be another Alphie

not another Terrier not another

not any other Terrier not any other

we won’t have any Terrier replacement parts

they aren’t being made


I keep writing though not sure why

not sure why just because I do

just because I do but not sure why

it’s not like I want to remember-

even when the toys are gone

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Picking up the Ashes

A short ride

to the Vet

to pick up the ashes of one who’s gone

on his final journey

and only the ashes are left


and only the ashes are left

and the memories

and we save some of his toys

and we saved…

visions of him


visions of him

that seem not ready to leave us yet

how long does it take

do we even want to lose these visions

who he used to be


who he used to be

the rememories of past times

smiles and barks and the occasional bite

he really didn’t mean to do

now only the ashes……

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It’s been a week

It’s been a week

since what was left

of Alphie died

left from the cancer

It’s been a week


It’s been a week

and still I see him

unless I try real hard

not to see him

It’s been a week


It’s been a week

seven days and I’m

waiting for acceptance

like maybe Amazon

will deliver acceptance


Maybe I’ll wake up Friday

and not have the empty in my heart

when I go to pick up the ashes

of the terrier gone to someplace

It’s been a week

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The Sleepless Nights-Alphie

The Sleepless nights

The sleepless nights as he wails while having seizures

The sleepless nights

as he rails against his oncoming night

we wonder if he knows

we wonder if he waits

The sleepless nights

as his bark becomes a wail

As he fights, as he fights

he knows

he’ll never win the war

The sleepless nights

as we wait and wonder

wait and watch

wait and hope for

what we do not know

The sleepless nights

till we know the light is going out

has gone, has gone

and there’s only one thing left to do

the time for final sleep

Bob Small


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Baldwin’s 1959 or so. Maybe 1960.

When your memories predate search engines.

Had a dream about Baldwin’s last night, our neighborhood sandwich shoppe, hang-out, place to go. I’mnot sure about the year but it was way before way before.

This event took place shortly before the sixties, before LSD, “Nam, Assassinations, we were probably still in Eisenhowerland or as the old man called him “Eisenhowever”. I was too young to be anybody and found myself hanging out with the local “oldheads” at Baldwin”s. Maybe I was their Mascot/Lookout, someone to teach smoking to.

That night, whatever week of the night it was, Baldy closed early for some reason, who knows/cares and one of the guys said, “my parents are gone, bring your beer to my lawn and taek the little guy, too.

But no fights”

So we sat on the lawn, have a memory of some streetcorner harmony, but maybe I want to have that memory. Long ’bout 9:30 some of Northeast Philly’s finest, all big and brutal, start to put us in that big blue wagon. (I think it was blue then.) Then dumb little me talks his big face up.

“Guys, there’s a first amendment and”- Whomp Whomp Whomp or was it whapo whapo whapo. No matter, Bob’s first time in the back of the Cop Wagon. The oldheads stifled their laughter as best they could.

The old man came to pick me up and went home and whapo whapo whapo.

So I stopped going to Baldwin’s and who knows where the oldheads went. Enlisted or jail, probably.

Meanwhile I got into the sixties and found some real dangerous places. Stuff I could never tell my parents about. Or anyone. It was probably my fault, anyhow.

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