A Drop of the Pure

A few years ago, pre-covid, I met Jon Freeland. It felt, at the time, like the many pleasant interactions I've had over thirty-odd years of being in the bar business. I tend to magnetically attach myself to creative people, regardless of the actual discipline. Jon was one of those humans, and remains one of those humans. Again, I come from live music club bartending. I also come from the Republic of Ireland, Cork City to be specific, class of '87, Donnelly visa, 12 years old. I grew up on punk rock, bards, storytellers, troubadours, actors, playwrights, musicians, singers, and of course poets. So a very natural, organic, common goal of simply reading poetry was an easy endeavor. The day I met Jon, I immediately called my friend and mentor, Allen Tatman. Allen and I are brothers in mouth bullets, and tales of yore. I remember specifically reading a draft of a book Allen had written when I used to work for him and his lovely wife, Marilee, who is also a trusted mentor. I told him about my chat with Jon and... BOOM! Contact! This feels good. So once a month, on an otherwise lonely and sleepy Monday night in the fair city of Jefferson, in the great stateof Missouri, "Single Pot Still Poets Society" was birthed. What follows is our club's first attempt at a collective publication. I love these people and I want to thank them for our "monthly sessions." Paddy Malone's Irish Pub & Gumbo Bottoms Alehaus proudly present Volume 1: A Drop of the Pure Slainte, Padrigh Stiofan