No more poetry for me.
QUITTER BY DAVE MORRISON 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 06
I’m through.
I mean it this time.
No more pictures taken with the word-camera, no more rough sculptures chiseled with observation, no more melodies played on the junkyard xylophone of old emotions.
No more poems about children with elderly eyes and bird-laughs, so fragile and indestructible, so filled …