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Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Featuring Donal Mahoney


World Cup

The ISIS Brit
tall in the desert

blade by his side
talks to the camera

severs the head 
of the orange infidel

kneeling beside him 
kicks the head

across the sand
while the world 

has a beer
in its coliseum

deaf to Satan
shouting “Goal!”


A Matter of Business 

Every day at noon
when church bells peal
Rufus stops counting his money
gets up from his roll-top desk
lights a Cuban cigar
pours a glass of fine wine
and looks out his garret window

hoping to see Martha 
his neighbor dead in the snow
dropped by a heart attack 
or maybe black ice.
Either will do.
Too old to shovel the walk
she can’t afford to have it done.

Rufus never thought Martha
would live this long.
When she finally dies 
the property reverts to him
the result of a deal he cut
with her dead husband Mort
years ago when the couple 

needed his money and Rufus
figured they’d die in no time.
Mort was quick to cooperate
but Martha has been a turtle.
Twice now Rufus has lost
good buyers for the place 
rehabbers think is worth fixing.

Rufus doesn’t agree 
but he’ll sell the place in seconds
to anyone who offers the money.
For now, when church bells peal
Rufus lights a cigar, drinks wine,
looks out the window and thinks,
Hurry up Martha and die.


A Night in Morocco

Middle of the night he flies out of bed
to the commode only to wonder 
in the dim light minutes later
if that's blood or simply a good-bye
from his wife’s stewed tomatoes,
a Moroccan dish she found on the web.

When he asked for a third serving
he pronounced them delicious.
So too, he said, was her dessert,
the Moroccan plum mousse
with the dark plums he likes.
Even with the ceiling light on 

he doesn’t know now what he sees 
so with his medical history he's 
speeding at midnight to the ER
where the doctor says better safe 
than sorry and orders a fast
colonoscopy to solve the mystery.

When he finally gets home, he tells
his wife when her boss comes over
for that big dinner Saturday night,
why not make Moroccan tomatoes 
and her magnificent plum mousse.
He may never forget either. 


Donal Mahoney


Nominated for Best of the Net and Pushcart prizes, Donal Mahoney has had work published in various publications in North America, Europe, Asia and Africa. Born and reared in Chicago, he’d probably be in Ireland if the English hadn’t sent his father abroad after he served time for running guns for the IRA. Some of his earliest work can be found at: http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com