On Emigrating
To Iceland

 
 
Consider first the Alabama heat,
consider next the toad
 
still as a turd on this rural bridge
rupture slung across a stream
 
where offal floats,
where clumps are belching.
 
Note the toad, the reeks
that genie up beside it.
 
Then remember Iceland
and the freshets of its Spring.
 
Iceland had no toads,
no reeks to genie up beside them.
 
 
Donal Mahoney



If you have any comments on this poem, Donal Mahoney would be pleased to hear them.

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