Keith Morris
Adjective followed by a season, probably fall, followed by a sentence or two, ending with a dash
to indicate a thoughtful pause. Also a good place to end the stanza. Two to three lines max
depending on mood and subject. Last line tabbed.
Wordy adjective-laden description of a memory, maybe a good one. Good place for a colon
followed by a neat, pivotal word. More than likely a simple word. Lines with syllables
numbering eleven.
Something, of course, in parentheses to indicate old-age inspired revelation, for example, or an
afterthought, or because I haven’t used a set yet. Tab whole stanza.
Here, resulting realizations indicate solutions or lack of. Acceptance, perhaps. Hope, maybe. Not
many adjectives here. Simple sentences, too.
Open ending with a play on a word: I don’t know, “bound” or “still,” for example. Hoping that,
for me, it’ll be like a good song ending that makes me have to hear the whole thing from the
beginning, again and again. May end with punctuation. May not
Keith Morris earned his BA in English and Psychology from the University of Mississippi and earned his MA in English from Mississippi State University. His poems appear in FishFood, Sonder Midwest, Cathexis Northwest, The View from Woodall, and The Louisville Review. His music appears in Tenth Street Miscellany, Hare’s Paw Literary Journal, and Defunkt Magazine. He teaches English at Itawamba Community College in Fulton, MS, and lives in Tupelo, MS, with his wife and two sons.