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Jason Labbe
Published: Fri Jul 1 2005
Art: Paul TheriaultEver New (detail), 2022, acrylic and found paper on scavenged wood

Let the transit of light right my wrongs:
Let the rock I threw at the other boy
Stay buried,
Let the canopy of continuous lies burn in brushfire,
Let the shoplifted hammer be returned to its hook.

_               _*

Let the sliver of pheasant-bone stuck in my throat
Dissolve into water. Let the trickle
Slither over black rock into the Pacific:
Slide, crescendo, wave
Before generations of reeds.

_               _*

Let the end begin in a distant city.
Let me be the last to know, so
I can see these tomatoes ripen, like a sentence
Completed, before I pick them.
Let them taste sweet as

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