by Matthew Murrey

Back then she worked in a warehouse
with a tin roof.  One time she took me with her,
must have been the year before I started school.
I played on the floor while she sat typing fast
at an electric typewriter that seemed bigger than I was.   
Before lunch, there was thunder, then a downpour;
both of us stopped, looked up.  What an uproar,
as if a thousand of my mothers were up there
banging away on typewriters in a fury of work.


Matthew Murrey’s debut poetry collection, Bulletproof,
was selected by Marilyn Nelson and published by Jacar
Press in 2019.  He previously received a fellowship in poetry
from the National Endowment for the Arts, and his poems
have been published or are forthcoming in
Rattle, Rise Up
, Crab Orchard Review, Under a Warm Green
, and other literary journals.  Murrey is a high school
librarian in Urbana, Illinois.  

Previous page    Apple Valley Review, Spring 2019    Home
Apple Valley Review:
A Journal of Contemporary

ISSN 1931-3888

Volume 14, Number 1
(Spring 2019)

Copyright © 2019
by Leah Browning, Editor.  

All future rights to material
published in the
Valley Review
are retained
by the individual authors
and artists.