Summer 2009

Table of Contents - Vol. V, No. 2


Poetry    Essays    Translations    Fiction   

Mark A. Murphy



Applaud the lovers,
who have no worldly riches to bestow,
who climb the attic stairs
with only their bodies to give,
where the bed,
a soiled mattress on the floor awaits them --
their torsos bathed in moonlight,
the night air at their backs.

Their time under the stars
reason enough to fall
headlong into each other’s desires --
not for them the sweet talk of posterity,
nor the bitter talk of betrayal.
Applaud the lovers, dumb before God
and holy man,
with only their youth to live for.


© Mark A. Murphy



Poetry    Essays    Translations    Fiction   

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