Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Donal Mahoney- A Poem

Miss Lakeishia Sings The Blues
Listen, mister, you're a guest 
at the Night Owl Club 
so you can sit here 
all night long, tip me 
after every song, 
buy me scotch 
till the final gong 
but none of this will help. 

You'll still go home alone 
unless some other lady has a need
to make her rent 
and sees the opportunity
you offer. It won't be me; 
I can't be bothered. 
I need a different kind of man, 
a man who'll hug me tighter 

than my panties can, 
a big old man 
whose big old tongue 
will be my tampon 
when I'm dry.
If you'll get off that stool 
and look in the mirror 
behind those whiskey bottles

standing at attention,
you'll see clearly why 
you can never be that man,
not even for an hour. 
I'm no Billie Holliday,
but even with my glasses off,
I can see that you
ain't no John Wayne.


Donal Mahoney, an immigrant from Chicago, lives in St. Louis, Missouri. He has had poems published Dead Snakes and other publications in North America, Europe, Asia and Africa.

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