Donal Mahoney


Donal Mahoney Poems

1. A Day In The Life Of Paddy Murphy, Broker 3/30/2012
2. Take Me To The Taxidermist 3/31/2012
3. Three Girls Of Spring 4/1/2012
4. Scenes From A Parish 4/2/2012
5. No New Woman 4/2/2012
6. Dropped By A Peacock 4/4/2012
7. Haberdasher's Thoughts 4/4/2012
8. Recluse At Coney 4/6/2012
9. Dr. Donohue 4/6/2012
10. Bells From The Cathedral 4/7/2012
11. Dad 4/7/2012
12. Waggle And Jounce 4/8/2012
13. Pedro, Pablo And Little José 4/11/2012
14. Hermit's Confession 4/14/2012
15. The Cab That I Caught 4/16/2012
16. Unintelligent Design 4/17/2012
17. Prayer For The Priests Of Mexico City 4/17/2012
18. Staff Meeting At Auschwitz 4/22/2012
19. Boysenberry Eyes Awhirl 4/24/2012
20. Mother's Day 4/25/2012
21. Straight In His Caneback Chair 4/30/2012
22. Paddy Murphy's Wake 4/30/2012
23. What Purpose Does A Rabbit Have 5/1/2012
24. Booger Mcnulty And Me 3/11/2012
25. Last Irish Christening 3/14/2012
26. Sadie Says 3/17/2012
27. Beulah Needs Another Man 3/18/2012
28. Two In The Head 3/20/2012
29. Memories 3/21/2012
30. The Honey Room 10/10/2011
31. So Fingertips Kiss 10/11/2011
32. 'Lemon Underwear' 10/12/2011
33. Wilson And Broadway At 4 A.M. 5/1/2012
34. Kissing Carol Ann 5/3/2012
35. The Last Honeydew 5/5/2012
36. Wound In Cellophane 5/18/2012
37. The Foyer Of The Heart 5/19/2012
38. Father, Again, Peering 5/20/2012
39. Night Light 5/20/2012
40. Midnight Anthem 5/23/2012
Best Poem of Donal Mahoney

An Old Friend In A Box

I found an old friend
in a cardboard box
in the basement
where I left him
forty years ago.

His body was intact
but he never had a heart
which is why I left him
with drafts of other
poems published
long ago on paper
in little magazines
decades before
computers appeared.

The poems were born
on a Royal typewriter
with carbon paper
serving as midwife.
He was the only one
I didn't sent out
but didn't have
the heart to abort.

I took him upstairs
to see if my skills
as a surgeon
had developed.
Maybe I ...

Read the full of An Old Friend In A Box

In Break Formation

The indications used to come
like movie fighter planes in break
formation, one by one, the perfect
plummet, down and out. This time they’re
slower. But after supper, when I hear her
in the kitchen hum again, hum higher,
higher, till my ears are numb,
I remember how it was
the last time: how she hummed

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