Dancing on the Fourth of July
All that hair
trapped in a braid
silver to the waist
Opal this morning
nude in the mirror
brings the braid up
between her breasts
and around her neck,
a python of her creation
that she promised Elmer
she would cut off
for a pixie hairdo
like Audrey Hepburn
if he would take her
on the Fourth of July
to the Senior Dance,
something Wilbur
would always do
if she wore high heels
and that red dress
and those black
nylons he found
with the seams
like the ones she wore
the day he came home
all crew cut and cowlicks
from Korea.
This time Wilma
is ready for the bastards
jimmying her front door,
coming back for more.
The first time she was asleep,
the bedroom light on,
the Bible open at her side
to John, Chapter 6,
"Do this in remembrance of me."
Tonight, however,
Wilma's lying on the couch
with the lights out,
the rosary in one hand,
her late husband's pistol
cocked in the other.
Jack taught her how to use it
when she was a bride
and tonight she will pray
for the men now
coming through the door
and then she will use it
in remembrance of Jack
and call the police.
With all the commotion,
she'll probably miss Mass
but it's a weekday,
no sin involved.
The Constant Dinosaur
Some day soon
Wall Street giants
will walk on their hands
never sit or sleep.
They will eat
with their feet
as nostrils drip
and neckties droop.
With toilets extinct
they will launch
missiles that blot out
the sun and moon
while in the dark
the constant dinosaur
of greed will roam
the avenue and eat
the little people
one chomp at a time.
Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri.
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