MICHAEL DENNIS MOONEY -- new writings

Here at Non Compos Mentis State
They let us keep the lights on late.
I read your poem of the gauzy dawn
And lovemaking that goes on and on --
Made me nostalgic for that age
When I turned the sheet and not the page.

I liked your silken diction, ala Herrick,
Pulsing with vigor like an oil derrick.
Looked up half the words! Such learnedness!
Such lyric impulse! Such earnestness!
I liked your languid lovers; their obscene lolling
Did not seem in the least apalling.

I picture you in a pointed spade of beard,
Reading a book of sonnets, quite dog-eared,
Wearing a black waistcoat, white collar of ruff.
Your lean fingers clasp a silver box of snuff.
You are seated in a gallery hall.
Great worthies' portraits line the wall:

Shakespeare, Raleigh, Ben Johnson,
Marvell, Webster, and old John Donne.