Umbrella’s lighter offshoot

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Play Fellows

by Susan McLean

Eugene O’Neill
needed audiences with buns of steel.
In Long Day’s Journey into Night,
the title’s right.

Clare Boothe Luce
showed sauce for the gander suits the goose.
In The Women, those whose husbands have been lost
become saucy—or sauced.

Arthur Miller
knew Death of a Salesman was no thriller.
He felt obliged to mention
that people should pay attention.

David Henry Hwang
hates having his name pronounced wrong.
It would further raise his hackles (if he had ’em)
to be asked “Is M. short for Madam?”

Susan McLean
is a professor of English at Southwest Minnesota State University. Her poems have appeared in The Formalist, Iambs and Trochees, Light Quarterly, and elsewhere. A chapbook of her autobiographical poems, Holding Patterns, is available from Finishing Line Press.