Sheila E. Murphy

You Ain’t Gusto Gone To Makeshift Silence

Swish tail Vichyssoise 
Leekly midnight eloquent 
Elopement dramatist purgation 
North of Roth holdings chaste
As miniature flags flagging down
Help helplessly scoping out the whelk
Would you be my carnivore 
Slapdash as bodice chemo luck 
Plucky as a silver-tongued middle aged
Biped unrollicking a fling to the distaste
Of the disaster chafing hope like hype
In the upper registers of the ear worm 
Or earwig of the bass clef belonging
To happenstance the little shavers
On the roster imposter off-sprung from
Banquet roses of the rodeo bound 
Hiding from mountain goats and whirling
Around the rotund immediacy of hound’s tooth
Picked from sleeves as overcast as some
Fishing expedition to the north park frankincense 
Marked to feed the ospreys in a cadence 
Of summer sun splice infringing on 
Simmer sleep shape modest as yogarians
Tasting the vindaloo in vintners’ clock face
Temblors afield with about face facing 
The remonstrance of midlife moon

Sheila E. Murphy

Dress for Less


bookend [whose 
object] objects. a blind 
date w/ scofflaw 
intact. other
in fact the 
semantics [a brush]
off. c-
lose reading 
[form of loneliness]
the reeds 
doubled single. 
patch. free from hitch.
pedantic motion cycling 
to lingering
fling. shut the
aptitude d-
own aptness nested. 
then out
of the blue wood-
land. contain [the work]. 
does this verb
a pact. the act 
progeniture meta-this 
and t-
hat.

Sheila E. Murphy

Psycho-Solil-

Charm school spooled out across 
migratory gloss. Whose variants
supersede dramaturgy. The clergy
chestbeats surface seeds.

Steeds a hue not-ivory 
press against future tense,
darned solo sock left with
the dryer's hum sound.

How many are we here
in tandem minus abacus
to avert the fuss. Adored weight 
placed on the berm 

maybe reciprocal for the interim 
capsized once the plural 
feigning taut reins affix to
the move with the unmoving.

Sheila E. Murphy

How Do We Unrest


How do we unrest together? Form
fitting innocence delimits our
research
aspiring to a feigned rapport,


shuttering the views of
youth in peril
seeking to distinguish flowers
from devouring clans who pluck them.


Set the tone with pursed lips making
points sans impact vocalizing to the
empty chairs chastising


gravitation light and whims
downsized to form
a colony of dogma leaving home
a glut of old codes that demand a clash


    

The Way Jim Worked


He allowed daylight to be itself. He took in glimmers of the depth and surface and arranged them for a while. He spoke longhand in a gentlemanly way. Fruits of his labor were to come. I know the leisurely approach would warm us as we waited for the chime, seeing a finished thing not about itself. It was about the way he thought. This long-term way of seeing that perfection might occur as soon as summer or whatever season he forgot. Each part came true, meant not the whole until. I see his voice instead of hearing it. He came into the building where I write. He stayed. It was a quiet rather southern time.

Waiting for arrival just the same as waiting for another time and place

Sheila E. Murphy

redondo

more of you want

less geometry than

midnight, when

I rinse your lawn,

fix things what will not

sing. change what resists

change, being as I am

wired to earn

my keep, your keep.

for our own sake,

the bake of sleep.

 

 

Tock

I walk without a metronome.

The cigarette in someone’s hand threads close to a safe inner darkness

Something that occurs to me is just a self along the path.

While hearing pressures non-conformance

to obliterate the lack of context in a sugar white.

She had a child, he held a child.

I welcome them to confines of a home,

within which each loses all sense (of direction).

In the ballooning of restraint, the adage goes unquoted.

In a moment we will seem another word for new.