Donal Mahoney- A Poem

 

Miss Lakeishia Sings The Blues

 

Listen, mister, you're a guest 

at the Night Owl Club 

so you can sit here 

all night long, tip me 

after every song, 

buy me scotch 

till the final gong 

but none of this will help. 

You'll still go home alone 

unless some other lady has a need

to make her rent 

and sees the opportunity

you offer. It won't be me; 

I can't be bothered. 

I need a different kind of man, 

a man who'll hug me tighter 

than my panties can, 

a big old man 

whose big old tongue 

will be my tampon 

when I'm dry.

If you'll get off that stool 

and look in the mirror 

behind those whiskey bottles

standing at attention,

you'll see clearly why 

you can never be that man,

not even for an hour. 

I'm no Billie Holliday,

but even with my glasses off,

I can see that you

ain't no John Wayne.

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Donal Mahoney, an immigrant from Chicago, lives in St. Louis, Missouri. He has had poems published Dead Snakes and other publications in North America, Europe, Asia and Africa.