Sheila Murphy
Reflections on an Olivetti That I Never Owned
An instrument at arm's length premising disturbance of the peace meant the apotheosis of democracy.

Whose night off is this, replete with multiple amendments and no one to vote?

Macadam seems a flinty plane, why (not) resist absorption?

Tintype, weatherbeaten face, an inclination to share not store bought stuff, rather, originals unlaced.

Kama sutra lower case, apart from caste encumbrances, some literature to thumb.

Body chemistry to occupy the mind, set theory, praxis, temperate regard.

A docent seeking to absorb tales to pass along, inquisitive concerning what is held intact and other-owned.

Purity as a refresher course comma ca.

Let my khakis go in the direction of tuxedo wilderness.

Capitulate or dry your hands after the set point noted via megaphone
Sheila Murphy
Don’t Leave

Don’t leave the house.

It’s going to be dark again and soon.

The branches have no pulp,

The moon is quiet, low, and thin.

Don’t leave the sanctity of stillness.

There are plenty leaves between book spines,

Where touchpoints you imagine love you back.

Spun history replete with hard and soft beginnings.

Don’t disturb the pasture of the mind.

Allow the solitude you feel is near.

Connections in the clearing lift your light.

Just fathom what you learn, embrace the sight.

Don’t leave innocence unearned.

You will be gilded as recalled.

Foster kindness, leave the light

Alone and kindle new respect.

Don’t leave the house with an untended heart.

Your blood runs strong to midnight.

Embrace the land as handsome,

this new posture in the world.

Sheila Murphy
Points in space pierce flow of darkness. The known conforms to womb beyond. How do you treble clef your way through tiers of say-so not your own? Is there invention in the voice box, to parallel flowers clipped young? The teacup and the tea things and the morning ripe for liminal detente. Is there tonality to match the flair you claim? Backlit daydream pulses near the reconnoitering of nouns by heart. How can acreage contain, prevail, estrange near neighbors now? What to grow in weather? How are decibels becoming animals? Expecting a harmonic, blurs the thought of winter.
Sheila Murphy

Lives are these shut roses.

Near the world lives frost.

My glasses hurt.

Have you seen my container?

The storks leave home without us.

Coins hold in dream,

bump through wash cycles.

What if poverty again?

Hope becomes nostalgia.

Is there a tincture I can use for that?

Impertinence gets the lime-


How normal must I seem to pass the invocation

toward another life?

I breathe integers and plain old breath.

I would imagine if I imagined most of daylight.

Now is work until tomorrow night reveals

the verdict of our freedom.

Yes ahead of time. Yes, please