Two Poems by Donal Mahoney

The Deli On Granville

I lived in the attic back then,
and late those evenings I had to study
and couldn't afford to go drinking
I'd run down to the deli and buy

bagels and smoked lox.
I'd watch the lame son
wrap each item in white paper
while his father, coughing at the register,

pointed to the cans on the wall
and screamed, "Serve yourself! Serve yourself!"
I'd grab a tin of baked beans and he'd smile.
Now, years later, I return to the deli

and find that it's closed.
The sign on the door confirms
what everyone else already knows:
There has been a death in the family.

Father: Every Morning of His Life

The cup he took his tea from
all those years was Army surplus,
made of tin. It whirred

to the spoon he wound in it
15 times per lump of sugar.
We who slept in rooms just off

the kitchen rose like ghosts
to the winding of that spoon.
In my house, now, mornings

Sue’s the first downstairs. She
scalds the leaves and wonders:
Will the winding ever end?

Three Poems by Sarah Marie Miller

a moon painting in spain.

and the she

gets uncomfortably close

colors blurring the lines till they

become muddy hues muddy uncomfortable hues

til one day she sees a light raises her eyes realizes

art is her meditation realization of truth of life of getting
back to real to feel to remember to forget
she frowns a brown frown at the colors she has made
paints it black

starting from the neck of the dove who dared to
in hungry dark chocolate hues
runs away

cries a glass of tears in your waterpark blues

homesick subterranean alien


everything in here smells old. moldy. filthy and covered in sweat from the seventies. sixties. my parents when they were my age and horny.
it is suede it is maroon. it is cracked and dry. it is my skin. it is my chimney stopped up for decades for fear of tenants burning the damn building down. utopia. thats what they called my apartment building. in nineteen twenty. when ladies had creme coloured lace gloves and wore perfume and crossed their legs.
whats that mold causes dementia.

(if i pull this last bit of nail off i will bleed.

i have to pull it off.)


in line with ipod ears buzzing signs flash buy this overpriced banner
a woman dressed to kill .herself. with some feathers and is that a clothespin sticking out of her head
a man with sportscoat and store-bought wrinkles ironed into the back of his stonewashed gap jeans

inside i am laughing at everyone and somber as can be

on the walk home i shoot out a first floor office window to push the button on the monitor of a computer left on overnight.

(to save electricity.)

A beautiful song, just beautiful… by William J Fedigan

Michael says he sings to cancer, says cancer sings to him.
Michael says cancer is a woman. Michael says she loves him, says he
loves her.
Michael says she will kill him. He tells Jimmy:
-I sing to her, Jimmy. I sing a beautiful song, Jimmy, just
-She sings to me, Jimmy. She sings a beautiful song, Jimmy,
just beautiful… Can you hear the song?
-We love each other, Jimmy.
-She will kill me, Jimmy.

Michael and Jimmy on Ward B, basement.
Michael on Ward because he sings to cancer, hears cancer sing
to him. Jimmy on Ward because he wants to kill self. Jimmy tells ER
doc he wants to kill self. Jimmy gets 14 days on Ward B. 14 days.

Jimmy likes Michael’s song. Beautiful song.
-My mother sang a beautiful song, Jimmy, just beautiful…I wish
you could have heard her…beautiful song, just beautiful…

-Delusional, doc says.
Doc puts Michael on different meds, heavy meds. Meds don’t
work. Michael sings beautiful song.

-Tell him to shut the fuck up! Mouse says to Jimmy. Anger issues.
-He’s just singing to himself, Jimmy tells Mouse.
-Fuck you and fuck him! Mouse says. Anger issues. Assault with
intent to kill.

-Any thoughts of suicide, Jimmy? doc asks.
-No. Feel good.
-Any thoughts of hurting yourself, Jimmy? doc asks.
-No. Feel good, Jimmy says.

Jimmy discharged. Jimmy out. Week later Mouse out. Jimmy
sees Mouse in park. Mouse looks for clean butts on ground. Finds clean
butt with good tread left. Mouse cleans it off, fires it up.
Jimmy asks about Michael.
-How’s Michael doing? Jimmy asks Mouse.
-The asshole’s dead, Mouse says.
-He’s dead.
-Cancer? Was it cancer?
-He hung himself with a bed sheet.
-He says over and over he hears his mother. She sings to me, he
says, it’s a beautiful song, he says, just beautiful… next thing doc and
nurses running around. Code Blue, crash cart…dead.

Jimmy walks away.
Jimmy listens.
Jimmy listens for her voice.

Jimmy listens for her song. Beautiful song, just beautiful…


About Me

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