Monday, September 7, 2015

Donal Mahoney- Three Poems

The World in the Year 3000

There are pockets 
of them everywhere,
quiet and discreet.

Usually they meet 
once a week
in private homes

in basements 
some call catacombs.
Depending on the group

a minister will preach,
a priest say Mass
a rabbi teach.

Elsewhere you will find
a mosque on almost
every street.

Rusty Nails

After all the tests 
and the doctor’s explanation 
she thinks of them not

as 20 points of cancer 
but as 20 rusty nails
hiding here and there

at awkward angles 
somewhere in her abdomen. 
According to the doc, 

the nails could fail
at any time one by one
or else collapse en masse. 

More chemo is an option. 
With three kids, it might 
be worth another try. 

Aging in Place

It’s time to leave the man alone.
He’s getting old, his wife says.
He’s really slowing down.

He’s always been a man 
occupied with one thing 
or another.

No half way with him.
Now he finds harmless things
just to please the wife.

Three packs a day he smoked,
drank a pint every night, then 
quit both for her.

Stopped chasing women too
when a widow nuts as him
called the wife.

All he does is weed 
their garden beds and lawn 
four seasons of the year

with the wife upstairs 
at every window
keeping an eye on him.

Who else in winter shovels 
piles of snow off garden beds
and lawns just to weed?

He’s getting old, she says. 
He’s really slowing down.
It’s time to leave the man alone.

Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri.

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