by David Michael Jackson
The fire is not out .
It burns like fire, like pain, like, you know,
Water waiter, water for my fire, water, sweet
clear cool water .
Words won't do. Words or work won't do.
The sword sinks deep, yes, deeply into the
underbelly, into the abyss
And the words find no favor .
Eat the peach, man, eat the peach, yes, dare,
next time, next time,
Is there time left?
Time between growing up and growing old
time between the river and the sea
Eat the peach, man.
Eat the peach.
It is good .
It is sweet.
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