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For Jason Crump

 

For Jason Crump

 

Write something interesting & not just a rehash of the romantics! some days there’s a calling, some days there’s just writing & over the hill with Jason & Jill, poor old Jase pulled a funny face, writhing in pain, that descended from the brain, & over the rivers the eagle flew, different names in different regions, like a poet in different milieux, & would it ever come, would the stones ever produce a spark that would fire the dampish wood reflecting & reflected a fire that burns within, shedding skin, shedding skin my face new every day, but there is a fire that burns within, not for sale, not for sale, “you cannot buy my soul” (Carmody) & so Jase, regardless his face, in and out of writhing, endures.

 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

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