Donal Mahoney- A Poem

Miss Carol's Dumplings

Every month or so

on a Sunday afternoon

I skip the football game

and get in my truck

and drive out from the city

into farm country

to visit Miss Carol

and get my hands

on her plump dumplings.

Biggest I've ever seen.

Best I've ever had,

terrific with her

legs and thighs.

When she lays out 

her chicken dinner  

on that white tablecloth

I start drooling before

I even get a hand on it.

A farm girl, she says 

she's never met 

a man like me

so nuts am I

about her dumplings.

Usually, she says,

men like breast meat,

when it's moist,

and I admit I like

that as well

but not as much 

as her plump dumplings

on a Sunday afternoon

and her pluperfect

legs and thighs