| Caseworker’s Lament Like that broad in an apricot bra hanging over the sill of a tenement window, the sun is over me now, its nectar laughing and falling. I don’t have a barrel, not even a goblet, so I whirl underneath hoping I drown. Donal Mahoney |
If you have any comments on this poem, Donal Mahoney would be
pleased to hear them.
