"And what seems the final fruit will be only the measure of harbors and flatterers
— TriQuarterly (@TriQuarterlyMag) April 19, 2018
Hidden behind each wound is a wound that echoes only From where has this world escaped"
"Poem of Infinite Justice" by Donald Morrill in TQ 147 https://t.co/l8C3MDGHk4 pic.twitter.com/tUbVPQnKXc