His Mount Everest
Bug no bigger
than a comma
scales the wall
next to my recliner.
He's climbing
his Mount Everest
and headed
for the ceiling,
a solo climb,
no bug in front,
no bug behind him.
He has no gear
and miles to go.
He may fall
at any moment.
Let's hope
he signed up
for Obamacare.
Winter in the Checkout Lane
Old lady on a park bench
hunkered down
babushka and shawl
snow and wind
dancing everywhere
as she waves her cane
and says young man
you and I are in
the same checkout lane
our carts are heaped
with many good things
we can't take with us
I'm ahead of you
and can see a sign
on the register
that says "no cash,
no credit accepted
but everyone pays.
Have a nice day."
The Parlor of My Dotage
In the parlor of my dotage
I have a grand piano where
the ghost of Shostakovich
plays "Chopsticks" every night
while I in my recliner
drink vodka in pajamas
and cheer old Shosty on.
Tonight the concert's interrupted
when Granny in her nightcap
dashes from her bedroom
and shouts in high soprano
"Send old Shosty home.
I need a good night's sleep.
I have Mahjong in the morning."
Through my bullhorn I shout back,
"I won't send old Shosty anywhere
until his concert ends at dawn.
Then I'll put my parka on and saddle up
the horses and take the master home.
Old Shosty swears that global warming
is no problem there at all."
Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri.
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