“I should think that many of our poets, the honest ones, will confess to having no manifesto. It is a painful confession but the art of poetry carries its own powers without having to break them down into critical listings. I do not mean that poetry should be raffish and irresponsible clown tossing off words into the void. But the very feeling of a good poem carries its own reason for being… Art is its own excuse, and it’s either Art or it’s something else. It’s either a poem or a piece of cheese.” -- Charles Bukowski
“Good bye” CEO gig.
I’m one day away from having my goose cooked. Actually, I’ve known this day would come for a long time. Let’s face it, when the circle goes full circle there’s nowhere else to go but out the side door.
Am I disappointed?
Yes, I’ve still to secure a paid job but my creative self was dying one slow day at a time. In fact, I don’t care what all those highfalutin gurus tell you, you can’t hold down a job for the man and be yourself. Perhaps it’s me, but there’s only so much stuffing down one man can do.
Let her rip.
Ler her bloody well rip.
See you on the other side.