Sunday, May 8, 2016

Donal Mahoney- Three Poems

13 Ways of Looking at Some Polyps

He asked and so I told him.
The “cancer” poems stem 
from cancer in the family. 
Daughter’s terminal. 
Son's a five-year survivor. 
Mother died at 59. 
I had 13 polyps, all benign, 
snipped a year ago. 
I go back next month
for another roto-rooter.

As one grows older,
neighbors, friends and folks
one doesn’t know 
die from it.
That’s life, isn’t it. 

One never knows 
but the question’s not
“Why me?” 
The question is
“Why not me?"

Think about it.
We’ll all pop something 
now or when, won’t we.

Do No Harm

Alvin didn’t want to be
anybody else.
He didn’t want to be
himself either.
Money wasn’t a problem. 
He loved his wife and kids.
Doctors said he 
wasn’t depressed.
Maybe a hobby 
would help.
One suggested golf.
Another chess.
The time has come,
Alvin wrote in his journal.
A bullet would be messy 
and poison painful.
So Alvin flew to Holland.
A doctor gave him a pill.

A Drop-Off Problem

We have a drop-off problem in America.
We must decide which restroom 
one can use when nature beckons.
So far, tumult reigns among the people.

If we declare both genders equal
as well as every variation within the two
everyone can share the same restroom  
and stand or sit as necessity requires.

But some find this approach offensive
and if they win, perhaps we should
evaluate what some Third World folks
have used peacefully for centuries.

They dig a hole behind the bushes 
and stack some leaves nearby.
No need to have a plunger. 
When so moved, just drop by.

Donal Mahoney

Donal Mahoney, an expatriate from Chicago, lives in St. Louis, Missouri. Some of his earliest work can be found at and some of his newer work at

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