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BRIEF ELEGY
In memoriam P.R.
The truth is
We couldn't have been
More different.
Years back,
I remember saying
When you complained of being broke:
'So write some trash,
Just to make money.'
And your angry cry:
'But that would be work!'
To be a poet,
All day,
Every day,
Was what you aimed for,
Even when we were both
Supposedly
Producing ads
For the same agency.
You dreamed,
Noted,
Accumulated,
But didn't work.
The rest of us
Could do the job for you.
As for your own stuff,
It had to be
Heavyweight or nothing.
It's really no wonder
We were long out of touch.
You wouldn't have liked
This airy-fairy
Lament for you now,
Spinning my yo-yo,
Bouncing the ball.
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