Father’s Day by Donal Mahoney

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!

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Donal Mahoney has had poems published in a variety of print and online publications, including The Wisconsin Review, The Kansas Quarterly, The South Carolina Review, The Beloit Poetry Journal, Commonweal, Public Republic (Bulgaria), Revival (Ireland), The Istanbul Literary Review (Turkey) and A Golden Place. A native of Chicago, he lives now in St. Louis, Missouri, where he discovered, much to his doctor’s distress, biscuits and gravy.

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Editor’s Note: Please continue praying for Bennett.