My photo
Withering Cedars, Georgia, United States
My name is Tim Morris. I currently dwell in Northwest Georgia on my estate, Withering Cedars, nestled at the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, with my lovely wife and two beautiful daughters, where I teach high school American literature. I have been writing poetry for the majority of my life. I write about what I see around me. When asked, I describe my style as "realist romantic surrealism". The environment, sex, jazz, religion, politics, family, etc., are the subjects on which I tend to focus. When I am not writing, I play the banjo, didgeridoo, or drums or wander aimlessly shooting odd objects with my camera.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010



ramona had been crying again.
her eyes were nothing more
than burnt matchsticks.
she was a narcoleptic
behind the wheel of consciousness,
running into ditch after ditch
of one tragic philosophy
or another.
convinced time was folding
in upon itself,
she drained a quart of gin
and three boxes of granola bars
before crossing to my door
intent on bedding me
before the implosion.
luckily i was able to convince her
the blackout was due
to a thunderstorm
and that her clock was not
plotting to destroy the world.
satisfied, she drug her feet home
and back into bed
next to her husband,
a saintly, patient man
who spends the majority of his
free time
knitting masks for the local
s&m club
and is content to let ramona
play out her psychotic fantasies
in the confines of the building,
knowing those of us
with whom she regularly speaks
are well-armed
with tasers and open minds.

No comments: