Woman in the Day Room Crying
Lightning bolts in childhood
can scar the soul forever.
They're a satanic baptism
when the minister's your father,
mother, brother, sister,
anyone taller, screaming,
shooting flames from the sky
all day, all night.
The years go by
but the scars remain.
The pale moonlight of age
makes them easier to see
and scratch until they burst
and bleed again,
another reason I wake up
at night screaming.
When the daylight comes,
I talk about the scars
when no one is around
to say shut up!
I draw the details in a mural
on the walls and ceilings so
everyone can see the storms
that never left a rainbow.
Dangling Participles
Every time something breaks
like the pipe in the wall
we heard gushing
this morning
my wife wants to call
a repairman because
I can’t fix anything
except split infinitives
and dangling participles
and I usually agree
but this time
I mention the kayaks
in the attic and say
why don’t we hop
in the kayaks
open the front door
and sail down the street
wave to the neighbors
cutting their grass
planting their peonies
worrying about crime
and shout best of luck
we’re tired of the good life
we’re sailing away.
Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri.
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