Two Flying Saucers
A flying saucer whirrs
through the kitchen air
almost hits him in the head
flies out the open window
followed by another saucer
sailed at him by her
angry that he's earthbound
can't take her to the moon
one more time tonight.
He's getting old, he tells her.
She should have come aboard
when he was 23 and flew
all night from star to star.
He ducks again and gasps,
"Once must now suffice."
No Bigger than a Pepper Flake
I could kill him but I won't.
This tiny spider
no bigger than a pepper flake
has spun a web so fine
I can't see the strands
falling from a hook
near the basin where I shave.
He appears to levitate.
I could kill him but I won't.
He will be an inconvenience
for my wife when she spots him
but not an inconvenience
like the fetus in the womb
of my daughter's friend next door.
She goes back to school this week.
Both Sides Now
I told my wife today
I won't leave the house again
except to feed feral cats that gather
on our patio at dawn
to yowl for grub and water.
Otherwise I'll stay home except
to go to church on Sunday.
At the very least I want to say hello.
The day I die, however, I'll go right
to Feldmann's Funeral Home.
I'll need a lift, of course, but
I paid Feldmann's long ago
to wake me on my stomach,
pants pulled down around my knees
so folks can read my new tattoos,
one ablaze on each buttock,
easy to read in red calligraphy.
The left one screams "Kiss this"
and the right one shouts "Or this."
I'm pro-choice, I guess,
when it comes to this.
Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri.
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