The Alien – Joseph Murphy

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.
Nothing! Nothing!

If only I could be happy
with a new car; a machine that made
yellow balloons.

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.

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