DONAL MAHONEY - POEMS

Donal Mahoney, a native of Chicago, lives in St. Louis, Missouri. He has worked as an editor for The Chicago Sun-Times, Loyola University Press and Washington University in St. Louis. His fiction and poetry have appeared in various publications, including The Wisconsin Review, The Kansas Quarterly, The South Carolina Review, The Christian Science Monitor, Commonweal, Guwahatian Magazine (India), The Galway Review (Ireland), Public Republic (Bulgaria), The Osprey Review (Wales), The Istanbul Literary Review (Turkey) and other magazines. Some of his work can be found at http://eyeonlifemag.com/the-poetry-locksmith/donal-mahoney-poet.html#sthash.OSYzpgmQ.dpbs

(Photo: Carol Bales)

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​       Cold Water Raining between Them


Annie has a nice washing machine now 
but she remembers the one her
mother had with the wringer,
the old-fashioned kind.


Her mother took in washing and when 
the washing machine would break 
Annie would become half the wringer.
Mother would hold the waist of wet pants


and Annie would grip the cuffs and 
they’d twist in opposite directions,
the cold water raining between them. 
Each pair of farmer’s pants 

put food on the table. With six kids
food was important. To this day Annie
smiles when she remembers her   
Mother never had to use a pants 


stretcher in winter to make
her ironing a little bit easier.
She’d hang the pants out in the yard
and they’d freeze straight on the line. 




                        An Act of the Will


If love’s real, not 
the puppy kind, it’s
not just a feeling
but an act of the will 

a constant giving 
whether one 
feels like it or not.
After many years


you don’t know why
you’re doing it 
or why It must be done.
Two begin as grapes


purple with passion
unaware you'll be 
raisins wrinkling
at the end.




                     A Husband Falters


Better take his wife to lunch 
after what he said yesterday.
A slip of the tongue.

But where to take her?
The Chinese buffet?
The Indian buffet?

Maybe the Japanese place.
She likes sushi and tempura.
But when he asks about lunch 

she says not a chance.
She has to clean the house.
Cleaning lady comes today.




                            At Midnight in New York


It’s midnight in New York
and in this tall building 
Herb and Molly are 
in bed making love.
Molly is a virgin
and it hurts.
Olga’s upstairs
in bed with cancer
terminal and it hurts.
Melvin’s downstairs 
in bed snoring.
Nothing hurts because
he doesn’t know yet 
he has multiple sclerosis.
In the hallway a thief
goes floor to floor
trying door knobs
hoping one will open.
All the doors are locked, 
chained and bolted.
Everyone is safe.
No one can get in.




                         A Sisyphus Moment


There’s a force that makes 
a boulder hard to push up a hill. 
And there’s always a boulder 
and always a hill when it comes to  
helping the poor find something 
to eat, somewhere to live, a job 
they can go to every day.


Sometimes the boulder slips 
and rolls back downhill
and Sisyphus jumps aside.
Accidents happen. 


But sometimes the one  
who owns that hill says no
and blows his trumpet and gives
the boulder a mighty shove 
and Sisyphus gets run over. 


Then the poor must wait 
a century longer
for another Sisyphus
to volunteer and get 
behind the boulder.


No wonder the poor
are getting together 
and grumbling louder.
They know Sisyphus isn't
the answer to the problem. 
They must push the boulder.