Ms. Editor Savaged by Mr. Author
It is a different society now.
Less respect for people at either end
and folks in the middle as well.
People no longer are treated like linen.
Too often like Kleenex used and tossed.
Since it’s a man who’s sending those emails,
don't bother taking any offense.
We men are often not too nice to women
standing up although we can be sweet
as honey when wanting them supine.
You have a fine magazine but need
thicker armor over your sensibilities.
In my world, you’re young and while
I’d never applaud the benefits of age,
it has at least one that’s valuable.
When you’re near the top of the hill
it's easier to laugh at the louts below
whizzing darts past your keister.
At Bus Stops on Thanksgiving Day
Before dawn, people
who work on Thanksgiving Day
wait in the wind for a bus
to arrive or maybe not.
It's too cold to talk
so the people stand
like minutemen and plan
a revolution that would shock
nice families who drive by later,
children tucked in scarves
and mittens, laughing
all the way to Nana's house
for turkey, gravy, stuffing
and later in the day
a ballerina of whipped cream
twirling on pumpkin pie.
Thanksgiving is the day
America asks for seconds
and sorts its servers
from the served.
Donal Mahoney, a native of Chicago, lives in St. Louis, Missouri. His fiction and poetry have appeared in various publications, including The Wisconsin Review, The Kansas Quarterly, The South Carolina Review, The Christian Science Monitor, The Chicago Tribune and Commonweal. Some of his work can be found at http://eyeonlifemag.com/the-poetry-locksmith/donal-mahoney-poet.html#sthash.OSYzpgmQ.dpbs=