the truth comes round

Craig Kiddlesman tried all his life to do the right thing. He was promplty toilet trained, did well in school, and was on a fast track to tie-dom when a most extrodinary event occured to him.

He was angry, walking down the beach, and somehow, out of a blue sky, he made lightening crack right beside him. Craig had never been a mystic since his early years studying to be a poet in college. Reading up on all the religious crap and believing none of them had the right way of being, he wrote from the perspective of an atheist.

Until that day on the beach. He was called by a ufo and told he was the son of god and everyone was watching him. Paranoid to most, but unbenownst to Craig, he was a king, well hidden, who was said to have the blood of Christ within him. He was told the truth quite late. He felt like he was the last, and of course, they still kept secrets from him.

His writerly instincts wanted to keep nothing from the people, but the spies surrounding him feel they know better. They tell himhe is the Christ, and then that they know better than him... the irony is not lost.

He is hiding out in Chicago, after from a beach, enjoying as much of his life as he can, knowing that his words suddenly have the weight of a gullitone falling.

The dreams of the small town boy
came true

you expected me to have a plan

I leave that to God who is infinitly more than me














You are welcome to spread my poems by whatever means... they are yours... unless you make some money off of me and then I would like some. Is that too much to ask? No. I have a family, too;.