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Father's Day
by
Donal Mahoney


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In this house
even the bathroom’s
a place of no peace.

I huddle there Sundays
enthroned with whatever
they’ve left of the paper.

Off the door, the great blitz:
rubber balls, little fists,
soles of bare feet.

Unamused, still perusing,
I sit there refusing
to vacate my sanctum.

Blitz your bare feet!

© by Donal Mahoney.
Used with the author's permission.

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Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri. A native of Chicago, he spent the early Seventies actively submitting poems to print journals and enjoyed some success. He then took a 35-year hiatus from poetry to work as an editor of prose at such lofty establishments as the Chicago Sun-Times, Loyola University Press, and Washington University in St. Louis to support and educate five children. Upon retirement, Donal took to his recliner, and was perfectly happy sitting and listening to Gregorian chant all day. After three years, however, his wife interrupted with a Gregorian chant of her own. She bought Donal a computer and showed him where the boxes of still-unpublished poems had been stored in the basement for many years. Thus Donal began actively submitting again in June 2008. He has since had nearly three hundred poems published here and abroad, an achievement he credits largely to his wife.


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