I don't have a trumpeter playing the Last Post
and my words forked no lightning. Nope.
Ya know, Prospero could boast that graves ope'd
at his command and yawned forth their dead.
But hey, I never tried that Jesus thing with Lazarus.
And the wine? well, I turned that inta ****.

But I'll tell ya what! I lived. I loved.
And yeah, I hadda few friends. Some even called them bums.
But friendship and laughter and a few beers
are better than all the flim flam of any fly past
or marching bands with drums.

I gave it all away, see?
My soul, and all my being, to kids
and little people. To those in need.
That's all.
I know it's not mighty. And nope, it's not magnificent.
But that's all I had. It was me.

So all I hope now is that just a little glimmer or a glow
might still go on and warm a hand or heart.
I know. You might think it's not much.
But that's OK. I don't expect you to remember me.
Just the warmth and love.
It's yours, too.
It's everything I've set free.

Mike T Minehan

Now the cuttlefish
is a curious little critter,
not above shenanigans
because these naughty little things
indulge in oral ***.
What? Well, yes,
the male pops his hectocotylus
into the female’s mouth
and halleluja, does his thing
right there, without shame
or any ignobleness.
And the female?
Well, she doesn’t waste or swallow this
although she goes round other males
and solicits more deposits
for her clutch. Yes, her little clutch!
Eh? Such wantonness!
Really. But this precociousness
is just the way they like it
and shows us
there are many different ways
to indulge in coitus.
Yeah, just simply liking lots of hectocotylus
right down to, but properly,
stopping short of her esophagus.
Without any further apophasis
Obviously, nature thinks that this is efficacious,

Mike T Minehan

Of course,
the answer is everything.
Compassion, cordite, celebrity
and self fulfillment.
Immortality in children,
and love.
Then what about hate?
Ah, just embrace it.
It’s everywhere.
You can’t change it.
And anyway,
who can understand love without hate?

I should have said I loved you
a whole lot more,
knowing now the hemorrhage
of time.
Yes, you were really the one, see,
and you had such a beautiful mind,
so level headed in all my lunacy.
I can’t believe that I didn’t do
absolutely everything much more with you,
not to mention letting loose
with more books and travel and
ice cream at the beach together
and lots and lots of conversations
and more of absolutely everything
before the grave grasped you forever.
And forever.
It haunts me that it’s too late now
and you’ve gone so far away.
But your gift is this.
Yes, love and poetry, kindness
and finally, omniscience
about you, your incandescence,
your innocence,
and the enormity
of all I’ve lost.

Mike T Minehan

The reason we’re here is…
well, silly question, really,
the reason we’re here is simply
to love and procreate.
Very uncomplicated stuff.
Mostly.


Mike T Minehan

I thought about death and religion last night,
but not for too long, because both are a bit
spooky, with apocalyptic visions of the abyss
and all the other eschatological stuff
that makes me downright dizzy.
Not to mention all the pandemonium
involved in prophets, punishment and the
tricky process of getting
my ticket for admission through
the turnstiles of the Pearly Gates.
I really don’t like those ticket sellers and their
conflicting claims of heaven and everlasting pain.  
Nope, I’d rather think of temporal things
like children, friendship love and creativity.
Oh yes, ***, too, and everything else profane.
I’m a bit of a ruffian, really, maybe even
Rabelaisian. Pleasure, laughter, loving.
That’s it.
This is my refrain.

Mike T Minehan

Oh I wish you were here,
in my arms again
like the night you breathed
your last.
Yes, so close to me
and yet so infinitely far away.
So far away, that
I finally knew the meaning of
forever.
Oh my little baby.
I’m reaching out to you again tonight.

Mike T Minehan