 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) Small Backyard It’s a small backyard I’ve watched for years from an upstairs window while chained to a computer. Whatever the weather the old widow was always planting in spring watering in summer raking in fall shoveling in winter but the yard’s quiet now the only traffic a resident squirrel heading for the oak over the tall grass the widow’s heir has stopped mowing. She told her son you don’t have to garden but please mow the grass rake the leaves and shovel the snow or I’ll shake you at midnight the rest of your life. A Third World Life When he was just a boy, they took him to the dump to scavenge, bits of metal, any food that might be eaten. When he became a man, young and handsome, every day he would go to the dump and scavenge. When he was middle-aged, other men followed him after he discovered a bigger, better dump to scavenge. Now old and blind, he sits in his hut while seven children and their children go to the dump and scavenge. Small Shoulders She speaks the truth as she always has in 40 years of marriage especially when she’s lost in making dinner this time though she has to wash blood from the paring knife before she peels the last of the potatoes. Until the knife went in he didn’t think in 40 years she had noticed that for a man his size he has small shoulders. Reprobate in Recovery If you’re a reprobate in recovery you have to be careful what you do. You’re no different than an alcoholic, always in danger of falling again. At least an alcoholic has a disease but not every reprobate is sick. Some are genetically louses. They love what they do. If you’re a reprobate in recovery it’s understandable to think you might be safe in church. Lots of good people go to church. But reprobates go there too. Some may be worse than you. The next time you go to church, even if it’s your first time, remember this old saying, recently refreshed: A church is a hospital for sinners not a resort for saints. When you go to church, a reprobate might hand you a bulletin, pass the basket, nod off in the pew next to you or bellow from the pulpit. So watch for a reprobate to join the mix after a Sunday service during fellowship with coffee and donuts. If you can't spot one, a selfie may do. Odd and Strange The day Paul got married, his old girlfriend called his house just before he and his bride Anne caught the plane for their honeymoon. Paul was outside packing the car and Anne answered the phone. His old girlfriend was angry because Paul had married somebody else so she told Anne strange things Paul liked to do, strange things Anne had never heard of, stuff that didn’t sound like Paul at all, but Anne said nothing about the call and they flew off to a nice honeymoon, diving off cliffs and swimming in the sea, seeing rare birds and tropical flowers, eating native foods Anne hadn't heard of. Years later, they went back to Oahu for their 40th anniversary, and Anne told Paul about the call but didn’t say anything about what the girl had said although she remembered every word. They were sipping drinks at a cafe when Paul admitted he remembered the girl because she would ask him to do things he thought odd and strange. He was open-minded but there’s a limit. Anne said she understood because after 40 years with Paul, she now liked to do things she thought odd and strange when she left the Amish for something new.
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