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