Donal Mahoney Poems

In the parlor of my dotage
I have a grand piano where
the ghost of Shostakovich
plays 'Chopsticks' every night
...

In 1956 April told Henry
her mother had told her
there's a time and a place
for that and the time
...

this belle like a feather
floats table to table
bearing menus and water,
...

A phone call from anywhere would be nice,
even a call from that clerk at Sears
with an apology for charging that dryer
to my last employer
...

The problem is, Priscilla grew up
in a penthouse having parties while
Biff came of age under a bridge
...

Chicago, South Side


Late July and I am waiting
...

Two big attendants
in white coats are here
to remove my remains.
My son called the mortuary
...

They were never one
always two
yet they had five,
adults themselves now,
...

Tim Murnane had been lying in bed and staring at the ceiling of his hospital room when a strange woman suddenly walked in. A mature, nice-looking lady, she wasn't a doctor or nurse. She was dressed in her Sunday best- a voluminous skirt, puffy white blouse he could almost see through, and a pill box hat. He hadn't seen a pill box hat on a woman since Jackie Kennedy was in the White House back when he was a young man. This woman, however, was carrying a Bible, not an elegant purse.

'Mr. Murnane, my name is Ophelia Barnes and I wonder if you might be willing to give me a few minutes of your time. I understand you recently had an operation.'
...

I know that if I ever
fall in the street
the way that man did,
in the middle of an intersection,
...