John F. McCullagh Poems

Won't you go home, Dick Cheney, won't you go home
Don’t talk the whole term long
...

The Government runs free health care-
for veterans of our foreign wars.
Their philosophy of care is sly-
Delay, deny and hope they die.
...

Triangle

I will never forget the sound
of their bodies as they hit the ground.
...

You know my face yet forget my name,
but then, it's for my roles I'm known.
I've spend a lifetime in the game.
Now, in the shadows, I am alone
...

I would listen, in the dark, as the L.P. circled round.
A big fan, I'll admit it, of this petite brunette's sound.
I was shocked the day I heard you'd starved yourself to death.
Talent, beauty, youth all gone; the recordings all you left.
...

In the dark, past no man's land,
When the cold night's wind whispered low,
We heard a most incongruous sound;
christmas carols sung by our foe.
...

We all come to our final play,
our last Touchdown, our last score.
When we reach the realization
We can't do it anymore.
...

It begins, of course, in the Spring.
The evenings grow lighter
The air sweeter
and all the world is filled
...

I
The pale brunette
was asked to stand
and hear the verdict read.
...

A Penny for my thoughts
doesn’t seem a princely sum.
It doesn’t buy much else
when all is said and done.
...