End of an Era

[pippki]

The stars have fallen, the constellations strung loosely together have come undone, they've flown apart, the end is near. The gift is gone; I will never spin gold from straw again, never spin literary fancy from the boring strands of quotidian works. I'm done, undone, a sham, a lie,

and every paper I write is shit, shit, shit
I can't analyze any more,
and I don't know why.