Sheila E. Murphy

<Noon's a Way of Thinking Through Olfactory and Other Dovetailed Correspondences>

She wings. That's lunch. I think to grace
Her.

Naturally, you are thinking.

Obvious to taste.

A plant is grace-lined at least twice in my vernacular. That's a posse.
Think.

A routine navigable foray into prompt descriptus vortifies the fortext
norming its way forward is forewarned.

Take three.

It's dubious, this ingrained filter of delivery. As plain as rocks.

So then divide it, us, envelope strings, patchwork. Watch (from) the tip
of mountain (and) be relegated to a glad tone. Timed.

Is this not really coming spring.

I thought the furniture a joust into the color gray.

She tithed even in winter I am hungry now to meet her.

Even spring. The regulation caveat. The slumber happening in heaps.

______________________________________________________________

<bcc:>

animosiverdant shiver granules plock
into my corvair with the wind
ow o
pen
many of your shares are dimgood obvious
though some are filed
under the letter
t

liberty distinct from libertine
waives nearknown wood from
habit screech as any mobile
whimmer glaphs crypt's
pores

amuck is standly iodined
"want some?"
competing
uppance any
-more thus -road

the lavish ought entreats
removed once from
the peppy though indigenous
spruced see-through
thou to I in factors
sweet less musings

hydronomy impairs
the lilt
the quill
the ilk
until
domain names
thug their way through
curtains' head

I'm on your case
your side
your trail
your pins and needles

what else
is sharing for?

______________________________________________________________

<how are you organized?>

are there homonyms amid your pearly feathers?

do you buy in to the thought of drapes?

whose idea was this inventory listing you so readily
release before full contemplation?

how many employees do you mentally let go before you
hire a soul?

if branches make percussion on your window do you find
yourself against the concept of percussion?

what about invented lakes? inverted ones?

are you the sort of person who endears herself to salt
licks and then swallows antidotal opulence?

how important is immersion versus brush against a
simple parable?

are stories part of your career?

do you like bullets more than longhand prose?

if a pen you liked were blue what would you do about
the red ones?

are hypotheticals merely arranged plain facts?

would you call yourself in favor of control amid
temptation not to be in full control?

have you in recent memory recalled something you can
produce intact?

which daisies do you prefer: cardboard or yellow ones?

on the matter of enlightened love, do you read me with
your glasses on?

Sheila E. Murphy recently performed her poetry for Lit City in New Orleans. In 2000, she presented a series of readings and workshops at the Arvon Foundation at Totleigh-Barton, Devon, in the UK, in addition to performing at the third annual Boston Poetry Conference. In 1999, she was a featured performer at the annual Brisbane Writers Festival in Queensland, Australia. Murphy has authored numerous books of poetry, most recently The Stuttering of Wings (Stride Press, UK, 2002), and The Indelible Occasion (Potes & Poets Press, 2000). Books scheduled for publication include Recent Flute Silences from SUN/gemini Press and Green Tea with Ginger (Potes & Poets Press). She and Beverly Carver co-founded the Scottsdale Center for the Arts Poetry Series and served as coordinators for 12 years. The series continues under the direction of Carolyn Robbins, Curator of Education, at the Scottsdale (Arizona) Museum of Contemporary Arts. In 1996, Murphy's Letters to Unfinished J. won the New American Poetry Series Open Competition. The book is scheduled to appear from Sun & Moon Press.

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