The moments wear blindfolds; are locked
in a smoke-filled room; months
pause in the street
to ask one another directions.
My eyes have become boulders
a man can’t remove from his lawn.
I open a book – no print on the pages!
I put my ear to the ground.
If only I could be happy
with a new car; a machine that made
If only I could buy a new suit
and not start crying…
About the Author: Joseph Murphy has been published in a number of journals, including The Ann Arbor Review, Northwind and The Sugar House Review. He recently had collection of poems published, Crafting Wings (Scars Publications, 2017); his second collection, Having Lived, is forthcoming from Kelsay Books. Murphy is also senior poetry editor for an online literary publication, Halfway Down the Stairs, and a member of the Poetry Society of Colorado.