When you get sick of hearing about it, say I told you first.

It’s National Poetry Month

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Okay,
Father Luke

Now that I have been stripped of the means by which to get further into debt, as in playing the money game and doing a job I hate, and having less money at the end of the year than before I started.

I am reduced to doing the thing I love. I write. And I help others who want to learn how to write.

I was told “Don’t quit your day job, kid,” so many times I thought it was more valuable to consider plan B than plan A.

Plan A being what I loved, and plan B the thing I fell back on.

There is nothing left to fall back on. All I have left is what I love. Love really is all that matters in the end.

I haven’t said squat about who caused what. I’m just looking at what it’s like now. I don’t get into the lefty – righty game. And anyone still playing that game is childish in their simplicity by my standards. Almost cute, really. It’s quite larger than all that.

In the meantime, I have a killer recipe for ramen noodles.
Email me for details.

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Okay,
Father Luke

A verdict is expected in April.

Meanwhile, there is free poetry and prose at F a t h e r L u k e .com

And at Upright Against the Savage Heavens

Along The Knife’s Edge

and The Guerilla Poetics Project

There really ought to be a law. File sharing, and free writing? The horror.

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Okay,
Father Luke