Dear Lou,

How long have you been dead now? Almost 10 years. You were supposed to mentor me longer, ya know. I don’t know what I’m doing in poetry. I have a manuscript I got the edits back on, that I’m working on. That’s right, I got published. Sometimes the books even sell. I don’t know though, I feel like I’m just hovering around the keyboard. You were divorced I think, but I could sure use a mentor for having a family too. Damn it, you’re supposed to be helping me! I mean, I’m married, and that means no other girls. Although I’m ashamed of it, I was hoping to have some women who were into a guy with books. Actually, I’m glad I missed that. I know I would’ve gotten somebody pregnant as punishment. My wife still likes my stuff, thank God. Poetry is how I got her. I handed her a book of poems, and said, “Are you attracted to me?” So I guess I did score a woman from it. I’ll say I did! Jeez, we’re married now! But Lou, lately there’s no holy oil for my fingers, just the plastic cigarette wrapper wrapping around my throat like nothing in particular. Write something really great. I’ll try to cut and paste it in the clouds from my pathetic seat on the deck. I’ll spend all afternoon if I have to.

Your friend,