Being Ernest: John Walsh unravels the mystery behind Hemingway's suicide
You left behind a winding path of bloodied lions, wildebeests and kudus,
A bread crumb trail through forest, leading home
Bull-fighter, fisherman
Bearded and muscled
Male
Haunted, perhaps, by weathered photographs
Of young Earnest in long white pinafore
Or of hiding in the wood shed from Father’s rage,
Clutching a rifle
Courting death on safari,
In raging waves,
In fire and front lines
Spain, Italy, England, Key West
Scotch, tequila, martini, bourbon
Your own father’s suicide,
Double barreled shot-gun,
Demanded your own.
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