Donal Mahoney Poems

The mug of tea
I drank at dawn,
the tea that drove
...

As any capitalist knows,
you must spend less
to make a profit,
which is why I admire those
...

Bright Saturday in June
and there, for once, the whole of it
and, Lord, I have no camera.
...

with apologies to Hemingway

Beyond the frippery and folderol
of bishops and the like,
...

After the others had welcomed him back,
had shaken his hand and returned to their desks,
another as ancient pulled over his chair
to inquire of him who six months before
...

Dr. Sander’s wife
is a woman of means
who dresses down
when she visits
...

When Bill was a lad
his parents preached that
Scripture was the truth.
...

This time why
doesn’t matter
all that matters is
...

Either way, the gist is
profits for some,
losses for others
...

some of us have
seconds, minutes
hours, days
weeks, months
...