Dónall Dempsey Poems

Hear you before I
see you as you clog! clog! clog!
down the shiny hall.
Your 'new' old 70's shoes
...

It seems I was
Stevie's poor chap

who always loved larking
...

'Meet my libido! '
she said

and proceeded
...

A shoal
of taxi cabs

swimming yellowishly
...

Overpowered
with kisses

overwhelmed
...

Donall of the Dempseys does what the words tell him. They hold him hostage in a page yet to be written. They demand that a million poems be left in a hollow tree in Central Park. So far he has only got 2065 and was to go to New York at Christmas…so maybe…perhaps. Perhaps not.

The words say no harm will come to him if all their demands are met by High Noon in Casblanca. The words(we are desperate people) have cut off a piece of his mind which they have given to the police to show they are serious. Time it would appear is running out on him.
...

Somewhere
in the back of beyond

we walk down
...

Your death
lay hidden

waiting for me
...

'Needles & pins...needles & pins! '

'When a woman marries...her troubles begin! '
...

She laughs as the shark
stops: just short of her head.
Then...both of them: grin!
Camera clicks & we finish
...