John F. McCullagh Poems

In the arctic wastes where the Inuit tribe hunts caribou and fights to survive,
I have been told since long ago that tribe has fifty words for “snow”
That seemed superfluous to me- Fifty words for one commodity!
If I was born an Eskimo, I’d have fifty words to learn and know
...

Her little black dress is by Ralph Lauren,
her complexion is Lancôme.
Estee lauder blushed her lips
And Apple made her phone.
...

They monitor the internet.
They listen in on calls.
They spy on foreign Heads of State-
Believe me that takes balls
...

You cannot save time in a bottle,
that's not something a bottle can do.
Sure, time can be lost there
and loves are divorced there-
...

A thoroughbred voice.
A stellar career.
A beautiful woman
singing songs sweet and clear.
...

Detroit is a mess, eighteen billion in debt
But you can't stop a loser from a double down bet.
The transit she has runs deep in the red
Half her acreage is vacant and her tax base has fled.
...

In a Nimbostratus cloud I formed.
a trooper of the coming storm.
From a droplet, cold, alone,
my Starry crystal flake was formed
...

You see me suspended in space-time
as I’m passing the 89th floor
Falling headlong, my form is impressive.
Sadly, no one will be holding up scores.
...

In Whitehall stands a monument,
A column wrought in stone.
Empty as that mother's heart
whose sons did not come home.
...

I strain my ears at every sound
...