2 Many Workers 2 Service The Queen

too many workers
2 service the Queen

the drones push noise
into firm bound packets, laying
low under the metronomic tic
toc of Queenie’s icecold heart
clock,
mean while, above
the tunnel’d womb of her e
normous love, the work is pro
longed & the wallets made strong,
sending crates out as heavy
as a drones’ day is long,

& the vol
umes ship &
Her fine wrist
lifts &
the workers
push pencil
from 1st to last
shifts, but

!remember ye!
what she bad Queenie say:
a worker’s made for workin’ &
author is just the 1st six letters
of author-ity.

mallory o’donnell

January 1, 2002. Uncategorized. No Comments.

Monster-Size Puppets


god
bless this swell community,
for
in our hands, communally
we
just gotta have the answer-
a
quick & easy cure for cancer,
if
we all have a sit-down-&-seek-it,
on
this secret- or this shared notso secret,
we’ll
hop up as one body to the task,
and
unveil the eyes beneath the mask
of
the man &or the woman, wow!
who
looms above us, great cosmic cow.

but

we are like
monster-size puppets
fight
ing
in the glare
of the sun.

Mallory O’Donnell, 1999

January 1, 2002. Uncategorized. No Comments.

Manifesto!

come out
of the darkness,
child,
heave a hearty
ho &
scream!
as the full, falling body of Disco screamed;
as the 80’s devour’d itself, a
sweating, blackclad, can-
cantankerous beast;
scream &
quell the fire within my own swelling
nylon breast, quell me;
quelle beast.

scream!
as the huge sweatshirt-clad cheerleader screamed;
as the B-movie sorority underwear model screamed;
as the advertisements
on the billboards
out
of the windows
on
our ascending descending entering leav
ing re-entering, rolling
across the highway in bright silv
er beasts like sc-arabs
screamed;
as the heart of the darkest, darkest
sweaty dark heart of victory
at the heart of every
smart young woman in
our beautiful, dying,
dutiful continent
screamed.

Mallory O’Donnell, 2002

January 1, 2002. Uncategorized. No Comments.