Wednesday, January 1, 2014

poem || Sheila E. Murphy

Memory names convection ovens and their contents
and the sinecure with wheat substantially subtracted.

Serenity basks here: be conscious
of the thrift made whole made plush.

Blame enough to go around the hospitality you lack,
and I will fortify your tap shoes still in brackets near the house.

Your verdigris your pastures when I look
at tempting flotsam if we could turn back anymore.

Offer kisses met with scansion
through home plate along plateaus

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