Bless me Other for I have binged.
It has been a wile since my last concession.
This may be my reason for being.
That I took pleasure in the pain of lovers and strangers
and buried the tickles in flowers and charity.
That I lusted after every life not mine,
taking uncertain steps only to recognize my shoes.
That I tried to enjoy my bad luck for good
and worried good fortune away to even the score.
That knowing none of it is personal,
I write a prayer to condemn myself to another day.
- Rich Murphy’s credits include the 2008 Gival Press Poetry Award for Voyeur; a first book, The Apple in the Monkey Tree (Codhill Press); chapbooks, Great Grandfather (Pudding House Press), Family Secret (Finishing Line Press), Hunting and Pecking (Ahadada Books), Rescue Lines (Right Hand Pointing), and Phoems for Mobile Vices (BlazeVox); poems in Rolling Stone, Poetry, Grand Street, Trespass, New Letters, Pank, Segue, and Confrontation; and essays in The International Journal of the Humanities, Fringe, Journal of Ecocriticism, Reconfigurations: A Journal for Poetics Poetry / Literature and Culture, Folly Magazine, among others. Rich lives in Marblehead, MA.