Short Uterine Poems

I picture myself on a bicycle
speeding past this fallopian tube of a man 
with the stop sign
squeezing cars through one at a time
like unfertilized eggs
that disappear 
into a blur 
of uterine dust

I need to get to work on my own road
if he would just flip that sign over
I promise
I will go slow...

Read More

Mama boy ...
that be me
Lactose weaned on nuturing apron strings,
tugging on uterine maternal instincts

Mama boy ...
always so needy
Taught spiritual hormonal wise sayings,
faithfully abide by those loving estrogen teachings

Mama boy ...
Father said that was me,
and I’m just like my daddy — 
Splitting image   ...   umbilical unique...

Read More

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.”  


Donal Mahoney...

Read More

Flashlight: Stranger in the Gangway


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.”  


Donal Mahoney...

Read More

the sentence,perdition
no move to acquit
on trial for offenses
hand tailored to fit

no pardon forthcoming
a curse she proclaims
then yields up her life
to the withering flames

and yet time never ending
as crime will avow 
forever impending
from then to the now

where in uterine slumber
a shadow appears
of a spirit encumbered
with malice and fear

and it's memory burns
like the devils own den=
God no!......NOT AGAIN!!!!!...

Read More

when the brain is bold
the pen is pregnant;
and nine months stretch
out over an inch 
under the title still
like expectant father
waiting for a kick
and you’ll feel a flurry
but knowing this can be a trick,
those uterine lines
need nutrition,
don’t tear at that gut feeling:
let them gestate for
monday evenings
exceptional in convention
when your lady spills her drink
all over the bathroom floor,
and now your water’s breaking, too
all down your cheeks
and onto your
baby....

Read More

I have played thief. I 
have gone a-viking, and
I have stolen the encapsulated equivalents of uterine
linings. 
(from various species of fowl)
I at this very moment delight in the taste of the
unfertilized gamete, and may I just say that these lifeless 
cholesterol bombs go very well with fried tubers and zesty 
strips of fatty swine. 

life, my siblings.

Life is beautiful, and 
the true colors of nature are shades and hues of sanguine blood. 
red/after oxygen
blue/before....

Read More

The groundhog is about
she’s fattening up 
on hedgerow shadows.

Winter babies are carried 
in small wombs over stark ground,
they have eyes and mouths by now,
almost human paws.
The snuffle of small rodents 	
awakens more as yet unborn.

My own inner child
opens its eyes, calls out once.
From all directions,
brown in-uterine orbs
glance my way.

Dawn, like a stripper, 
takes off her long black gloves,
arrives in white thighs,
remembers that she too
is a working mother....

Read More