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Resume | Dave Morrison
https://davemorrisonpoet.wordpress.com/resume
Quality Poetry Since 2006. At seventeen he got a job,. Convenient store, across North Main. From Marshall’s, Mobil, PowerTest. Behind the counter, skinny, bored,. The graveyard shift, cash register,. Gum, cat food, milk, and cigarettes,. He dreams about a ’69 Camaro. The night wraps black around the store,. Reflections in the window show. The aisles of Pampers, soup, and chips,. A rack of discount paperbacks,. And pantyhose, cheap sunglasses,. The freezer and the dairy case,. Lonely, with no customers,.
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Love | Dave Morrison
https://davemorrisonpoet.wordpress.com/love
Quality Poetry Since 2006. I’m fine with my space. And solitude in fact. I crave them, but. Other times (like right now) I. Want to cling to you like. We’re on the run from the. Law, and they’re chasing us with. Dogs, and we’re holding. Each other in a swamp, under-. Water, breathing through straws,. Fierce partners hanging on. Until the danger is. I’m tired of the. Cold she said, so we. Built a fire, and. The flame lovingly consumed. The wood, and we. Fed it, and it burned hot. And clean and settled and.
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Mission Statement | Dave Morrison
https://davemorrisonpoet.wordpress.com/2009/07/21/mission-statement
Quality Poetry Since 2006. July 21, 2009. I believe in dawn, and crows. I believe. In my neighbor’s woodstove, and the. Light from their window. I believe in love,. And dogs. I believe in seasons, and. Simple machines. I believe in coffee. I. I don’t believe in big business and. Organizations for the betterment of. The Dollar. I don’t believe in politicians,. Speeches, television, dogma, salesmanship. I don’t believe in blindly supporting one. Team over the other. I don’t believe in. Believe in possibili...
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Cars | Dave Morrison
https://davemorrisonpoet.wordpress.com/cars
Quality Poetry Since 2006. A grille pushed in, one headlight closed as if. Some drunk had sucker-punched it in the eye. Bald tires that we called baloney skins. Bent linkage made it hard to find reverse. A Delco in-dash 8-track and the whiff. Of Armor-all, and cigarettes and wine. At first it was the idea that I loved,. Of freedom and adulthood, open road. Soon I learned to love the thing itself. The way it could turn ether into speed. The cast-iron heart that slept beneath the hood. After R. Frost).
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July | 2009 | Dave Morrison
https://davemorrisonpoet.wordpress.com/2009/07
Quality Poetry Since 2006. July 21, 2009. I believe in dawn, and crows. I believe. In my neighbor’s woodstove, and the. Light from their window. I believe in love,. And dogs. I believe in seasons, and. Simple machines. I believe in coffee. I. I don’t believe in big business and. Organizations for the betterment of. The Dollar. I don’t believe in politicians,. Speeches, television, dogma, salesmanship. I don’t believe in blindly supporting one. Team over the other. I don’t believe in. Believe in possibili...
davemorrisonpoet.wordpress.com
Bio | Dave Morrison
https://davemorrisonpoet.wordpress.com/about
Quality Poetry Since 2006. Drums along the Interstate. When I was just a little boy-boy-boy. My family lived in a house with highway sounds. Sometimes my Pop was unemploy-ploy-ployed. Sometimes my sisters and my brother were not around. Sometimes I’d run off through the tree-tree-trees. And watch all of those cars, some fast, some slow. That’s when I realized I had to find a place to go. I used to have bad dreams-dreams-dreams. And moments of blinding numbing joy. I used to listen to the Who-Who-Who.
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Death | Dave Morrison
https://davemorrisonpoet.wordpress.com/death
Quality Poetry Since 2006. When at last you. Dive into the deep pool,. Do you want to. Cut the surface cleanly,. Knifing into the cool. Water, or do you want. To tumble, thrashing and. The dying of the light? Died every dusk since Genesis,. You are in a long parade of. Those who have gone and those. Who will go. Go gentle, like a. Burglar, like an Indian scout, as. If going to meet your secret. Lover, bring all your experience and. Curiosity and gratitude and love,. Be a bold and peaceful explorer. Silen...
