Fortune Written in Wet Grass
by Eileen “Mish” Murphy
Fortune Written on Wet Grass
All over Florida,
with dazzling monotony.
The rain is warm
as a baby’s breath
and a sweat drop drools
down the middle
of my shirt
itself in my cleavage
and I hear
talking to me—
I should lose
clean out my sewers,
comb my lawn,
learn jazz piano,
and spruce up
this rinky-dink operation—
can ya hear me?
I don’t mind
being a recluse:
I’m not leaving
Can a horse be sarcastic?
A terra cotta two-foot-high replica of a Chinese T’ang Dynasty horse prances at the center of my dining room table. I call him T’ang after his era. He’s obviously a show-horse: three of his hooves are grounded, attached to the base, but his right front hoof is lifted coyly, as if he’s saying, Am I not gorgeous?
T’ang’s ears thrust straight up. Wearing a show saddle, he carries his docked tail high. His grin is huge, almost manic; his top and bottom teeth are like bricks.
I have to carefully arrange T’ang on the table so he faces the room and isn’t showing his plump rear end to anything or anyone except the wall. The round wooden table is shiny, and he has a habit of sliding on it when I’m not looking. He’d dance around the house like crazy if I let him loose.
But when he doesn’t behave, I herd him back into his stall under the sink. He laughs at me and I slam the cabinet door.
The Office Dreams of Freedom
It’s cold here and dusty; the air is perfectly still.
Voicemail sings when people are gone.
It pities the pencils locked in supply rooms.
It sings to its friends in offices everywhere.
Voicemail can sing when people are gone
Because it dreams that it’s free to dream.
Voicemail makes friends in offices everywhere,
Meeting near fish tanks, lurking in halls.
Because it dreams, it’s free to dream.
The phones fall silent when voicemail sings,
Meeting near fish tanks, lurking in halls,
As the office dreams of freedom.
The phones fall silent when voicemail sings
About the pencils locked in supply rooms.
When the office dreams of freedom,
It sings that it’s cold here and dusty
And the air is perfectly still.
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