Four Poems – Gary Murrow

As a follow-up to last week’s Half-Dead Poet Review by R.M. Engelhardt, we have gathered some of Gary’s last known poems with the help of Rob and Dan Wilcox.

Gary has not been seen in many years, but his legacy lives on. He has apparently been active writing in his absence, as he was voted one of the Best Local Poets in the 2012 Metroland Readers Poll and he was included in third edition of Up The River.


Masters of Fine Arts

It was a kind of Mongoloid Friday Afternoon
when she left my friend alone
on the lawn.  I told her we might fight apathy
but since my family’s Armenian
I prefer more fancy accommodations
& meat from animals.
She got pissed, said “Eat my fucking ass
you mother fucking asshole.”
I blanched, but was mostly feeling anxious
& sad at these many failed attempts
to get those pants off her mighty fine ass.




I shall drink & speak with

Of Robert Burns

My new home
I sail away fishing



Theology Class

I was sitting at the bar
when God walked in. He said
“Can I buy you a drink?”
Who says “no” to the Deity?
So He orders me a Side Car.
I look at him, what the fuck?
He says, “you drink what I order.”
I shrug. That dump truck
will run me over tomorrow
anyway. Besides, He’s paying.



Under the moon
I see lives

Of old naked neighbors,
Using their bathrooms

It makes me want to
Throw up