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The Risen Lariat
Sat on a ledge overlooking the belongingness of the below. Why are clients talking frequently so loudly; there is jewelry covering the grass blades, wholly-owned subsistence venturing grab-bag insistence on demand. If I look back on wasted time diverted from relaxation and pressed into the service of production, marmalade won’t kiss my toast. Are you unhesitatingly aware of held-back hypotheses. I thought ipso facto hinged to daybed antlers. Are you still holding light on spec, peut-etre? Murder on the jaw when you’ve read finer qualities in lofty prose. The risen lariat won’t melt another person’s maker. Why bother parsing what routinely will upstage the upstarts purling areas surrounding cavities? At last, the furtive fire invigorates few sloped observers. They just run their own plans into the passageways. Our prize foliage is usually robbed of surface crust. When fellow occupants depart our common center, how will I be left?
One Way
Suspect
Some ink
Of promise
Mounted rigor
Advertised
As auspices
Peremptorily coded
Razzmatazz
The zoo at two
Fastened retraction
Language
Sub-stand-
Stranded
Louvered like
The perfect stall
Or motion
Pantheist
Viatical
Versus grist for mill
Suds in the kitty
Floats to sea
Fewer and fewer
Rave reviews
En route to stature
Thermos of vast quantities
Just four leaves shy
Of ream’s
Plethoral
Impenetrable
Retracement
Better to pry than
To be ill-
Acquainted
From Scratch
She noted a chipped sink. I was listening intently to the page that I was working on, as well as to the air-conditioning from rooftop suddenly shut off. Twelve oh seven said the clock above the white TV. The salmon was incomparably fresh and seasoned juste. The chef in soft blue shirt melted with eyes. This slender strip mall atmosphere would be parlayed into everything but abstinence. I felt like the four-year old perpetually offering to recite the alphabet as if from scratch. How does one dissect the theory of a rainbow quietly unto herself. Mainly by knowing the infinity induction yields unwittingly. One need not be fifty to have verified. The lurch into display goes fall-guy-ward. We skip rope like successive stones on pavement where a lake would be. Reality stalls arrival of the actual, due to conforming expectations. While I wait for luck to obfuscate prior sequential patterns, would you mind proffering a vision for some future séance. The least speck of eviscera means shifted thoughts and their priorities. |
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Sheila E. Murphy's book manuscript Letters to Unfinished J. was selected in this year's open poetry competition sponsored by Sun & Moon Press, and will be published by Sun & Moon. Dennis Phillips was the judge. Falling in Love Falling in Love With You Syntax: Selected and New Poems has just been released by Potes & Poets Press. Recent works include A Clove of Gender (Stride Press, 1995). Murphy's work has been widely anthologized, most recently in Fever Dreams: Contemp orary Arizona Poetry (The University of Arizona Press, 1997) and The Gertrude Stein Awards in Contemporary Poetry (Sun & Moon Press, 1994, 1995). The Contemporary Authors Autobiography Series recently brought out an autobiography of Sheila E. Murphy, including photographs of Murphy with family and friends.
Sheila Murphy co-founded with Beverly Carver and continues to coordinate the Scottsdale Center for the Arts Poetry Series, now in its eleventh season. Murphy is President of the management consulting firm Sheila Murphy Associates. Since 1976, she has made Phoenix, Arizona, her home.
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