Donal Mahoney
Midnight Anthem
for a Chicago Alley
The lack of visitors is uterine
and that is why you porcupine
in this dark corner. Here
who can see the cobra
slither from your lips, spray
the phrases of your mind,
slip back to its moist nest.
Here, who can hear the jeer
of cheetah eyes. “Come,”
they cry, “pour on the light.
Your heart I’ll lacerate
with razor fright.”
Caseworker's Tune
Housing Project, Chicago
Where I am now
there are no leas, no
sheep feeding.
There are tenements,
children breeding.
Where I am now
there are no trees, no
wrens lighting.
There are halls far, dark,
an old man peeing.