Donal Mahoney


Whinny And Spit - Poem by Donal Mahoney

When a man's young,
this work is hard
but it pays well
and he can feed
the wife and kids.
In the morning
he throws crates off trucks,
and after lunch
throws crates again
till five or six o'clock.
But as he grows older,
and some say
ready to retire,
he has to stop
in the late afternoon,
mount his throne of skids,
let his legs drip over the side,
toss his head, inhale,
whinny and spit.


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, October 17, 2012



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