Sculpture
—Photos by Katy Brown, Davis, CA
—Poems by Donal Mahoney, St. Louis, MO
HOMELESS IN NOME
I was beautiful once,
the homeless lady tells
the young worker
who’s filling out forms
before assigning the lady
a bed for the night.
She’s been homeless
for months since
arriving from Dallas.
She's looking for a job
and maybe a husband
but hasn’t found either.
The worse thing, she says,
is the weather in Nome.
It’s nothing like Dallas.
With snow in the winter
and rain in the summer
in Nome she needs
something to crawl under.
Often it’s a man, she says,
with no home either.
____________________
AUTHOR INTERVIEW
The author tells the reporter
from The New Yorker he has
no electrical power in his cave
and that’s why he writes
with quills on parchment
stopping for a couple of hours
of sleep and a couple of bats
from the ceiling to eat.
He writes in a cave, he says,
to avoid the world and lives
in stories to forget the cave
unless the stories are bleak
then he writes poems about
long-legged ladies with smiles
like angels, eyes like suns
and waterfall hair, ladies who
won’t visit because he’s a gnome.
I was beautiful once,
the homeless lady tells
the young worker
who’s filling out forms
before assigning the lady
a bed for the night.
She’s been homeless
for months since
arriving from Dallas.
She's looking for a job
and maybe a husband
but hasn’t found either.
The worse thing, she says,
is the weather in Nome.
It’s nothing like Dallas.
With snow in the winter
and rain in the summer
in Nome she needs
something to crawl under.
Often it’s a man, she says,
with no home either.
____________________
AUTHOR INTERVIEW
The author tells the reporter
from The New Yorker he has
no electrical power in his cave
and that’s why he writes
with quills on parchment
stopping for a couple of hours
of sleep and a couple of bats
from the ceiling to eat.
He writes in a cave, he says,
to avoid the world and lives
in stories to forget the cave
unless the stories are bleak
then he writes poems about
long-legged ladies with smiles
like angels, eyes like suns
and waterfall hair, ladies who
won’t visit because he’s a gnome.
SHRINE FOR A BULLY
Very late in life bullets answered jeers
Paul once used to tease a little boy
coming home from school.
Little boy grew up and found Paul
and put a bullet in his temple
as the sun danced on the barrel.
Friends brought flowers, built a shrine,
gathered in a circle and prayed
after the ambulance took Paul away.
_____________________
DISCOVERY
Better a nation
have a demagogue
step into the sun
and tell its people
what a sleepy man
discovers flicking
on the bathroom light
and there's a roach
running in the tub
shiny as a silver dollar
but still a roach
despite the sheen.
______________________
REFUGEES IN HUNGARY
In camps in Hungary
Syrian refugees squat in mud.
Let them board trains
and go to Germany
where old camps
need dusting but
the bunk beds are there
along with ovens to light
if winter comes.
POLITICAL YEAR
We often fall short,
say the dwarfs.
It’s the way we are.
Don’t make a big deal
of it, say the giants.
Happens to us too.
Can’t see the problem,
say the blind.
What do you mean?
Please repeat that,
say the deaf.
Get to the point.
Have nothing to add,
say the mute.
Can't comment.
But each candidate
brings answers for all
every four years.
____________________
TRINITY
Some say none.
Others say one.
Some say three
in one and then say
one of the three
is two in one,
divine and human.
Every day it seems
more say none.
Easier to talk
with those who say
one but those who
say three in one
and one of the three
is two in one,
divine and human,
they confirm a truth
none will understand here.
Lichen
THE WORLD IN THE YEAR 3000
There are pockets
of them everywhere,
quiet and discreet.
Usually they meet
once a week
in private homes
in basements
some call catacombs.
Depending on the group
a minister will preach,
a priest say Mass
a rabbi teach.
Elsewhere you will find
a mosque on almost
every street.
______________________
GOOD NEWS GRIPS MIDNIGHT PHIL
Phil doesn’t go to church
but after midnight he enjoys
watching preachers on TV
swing their Bibles in the air,
march across the stage, yell
about the joys of heaven and
louder about the pains of hell.
He likes to see believers sing,
raise their arms and dance
in ecstasy down the aisles.
They might be on to something,
Midnight Phil thinks, clicking
his remote and wondering
if they could be right and if
they are, what about his bones.
Where will they lie after midnight.
Winery Window
FAST FOOD AT MIDNIGHT
A drunk comes into McDonald’s
staggers to the counter
is waited on by a young lady
who looks like his wife
years ago when he proposed.
Drunk says nothing, just stares,
mouth agape, until the
manager hustles forward,
sensing a sale
leans over the counter
says to the drunk,
“Want fries with her?”
______________________
Today’s LittleNip(s):
SUMMER SNOW
A row of lilacs
covered with a summer snow.
Ten white butterflies.
DAYLILY
Blooming for one day
a lily welcomes the sun.
Bumblebees drop in.
MANNA FALLS
Cardinals bicker
and knock seed from the feeder.
Doves parade below.
______________________
—Medusa, thanking Donal Mahoney and Katy Brown for this morning's fine fare (Katy will be one of the readers at 100,000 Voices For Change tomorrow; see the notices in our green box and our blue box), and reminding you to check out the photos on Medusa's latest Facebook album—Joshua Tree, CA with Cynthia Linville!
Titania
