John F. McCullagh Poems

The old lady at the terminal
had seen this show before.
Travellers removing shoes-
but the TSA wants more.
...

She was wearing a white linen suit,
the skirt just above the knees.
Of course her hair was golden.
Of course those breasts were D's.
...

Of all the souls that I have known
while walking around in flesh and bone,
hers was the sweetest and the best,
especially when seen undressed.
...

A pleasing emerald were those eyes
that turned to look at me.
Although I was a boy of nine,
that fixed my destiny.
...

A Man who served in Vietnam
is coming home today.
He’d scarcely recognize us-
so long he’s been away.
...

I told Ellen that I had to go,
an old friend was in need.
Barbra, my former fiancée,
sounded quite distraught indeed.
...

The Shadow-lands are here about,
hidden from even the most devout.
There those who were, then ceased to be,
enjoy post mortem revelry.
...

My life was changed when you arrived,
I moved from Rock to lullaby.
I watched you as you grew and thrived
Just Daddy and his little guy.
...

A doubleheader in the Bronx.
Bright sunshine floods the end of May,
Old number Seven at the plate,
Mantle on his last good day.
...

Did George Bush err in making war?
Was his pretext false, his premise flawed?
Was force deployed in the Middle East
just when we can afford it least?
...