Crayons (for Dale)

[Tiger the Lion]

When I was young,spilling over with inky passionand too sprite to feel a duty to cap it,I wanted to write about my generation.I wanted to sing with an upbeat heart,a peacock pen and the pretense that protest was new.I wanted to ‘Howl’.Now, maybe of lesser ideal,I draw a sharp, new brown crayon from my box of brightly coloured stubs,and intend to scribble through the night.I swear, my friend, if I get it just right,I’ll find the juice in these legsto run –and nail it at All Saint's door –before the last dawn,before crayons are outlawed for good.

I love the reference in L8. It's not that I'm a big fan of that poem or that style, but I cannot fail to recognize the impact it had on writers of his and subsequent generations.

I love the playful tone of this as well. As a writer, I think the crayons are a perfect metaphor for my own poetry. Pass me a pale blue stub (if you have one you can spare.)

Thanks for reading and commenting, Scoff. You're welcome to my crayons anytime.