Donal Mahoney Poems

Mass begins at 6 a.m. every day at St. Pancratius. Despite the early hour, and no matter the weather, elderly parishioners come out of their little bungalows in the dark to walk to Mass. Some have canes, others have walkers, and there's one man who pushes his wife in a wheelchair. For the most part, they move in silence down the surrounding streets and converge on the big Gothic church in small installments.

Patrolling the neighborhood at the end of his nightowl shift, Officer Thomas Gursky likes to watch the old-timers make their way to church. Having worked that shift for 15 years, he wants to make certain they make it to the church. But every few years, no matter how vigilant he is, one of them falls.
...

Things reach a certain age,
an age at which
things don't work
the way they once did.
...

Saturday afternoon.
He's watching the Olympics
and she calls to say
she's still at the store.
...

I'm just a dog barking,
I tell my wife who's upset
with my yakking on and on
at our weekly meeting
...

The nightmare woke my father every night
For years. He had no idea what it meant
And so he wrote the story down and hoped
Some day he'd understand it.
...

Listen up! It's Deacon Simon here,
Reporting on Pastor Harold Schnabel,
The minister we long ago defrocked.
Remember how he went to Holland
...

The rain is very thorough.
Going where I have to go
this summer afternoon

I march west beneath
...

This just in.
In metro St. Louis last night
a woman gave birth to a boy
in the bathroom of her
...

After all these years
my wife at the ironing board,
perfect in panties.
...

Why be anxious?
Why worry?

If you believe
...