Tuesday, July 29, 2014

(5.1) FRANK'S ENCHANTED WORLD VAUDEVILLE (starring Frank)

ST. IGNATZ OF THE RATS

For Michael Moore of those misty-Sixty army days who told me how St. Ignatz saved the NYC sewer rats from the alligators,

for Al Houseworth who showed me the storm drains of Santa Fe, and for Julie Joyce who accompanied me on a mission that started in the storm drain and ended in the Cementerio de los NiƱos.




(not Santa Fe)

ST IGNATZ OF THE RATS

Twenty-first century wild-ness
doubles & triples back upon itself.

Thickets and brambles
like concertina wire
looped & looped again.

Cedar Sentinels
limbs and branches
all a-tangle
stop the penetration - at least for now.

Barred from nature
Frank takes to the city
takes to the solitude of storm drains.

Down a culvert
into the maw
Darkness and damp
Palpable
Suffocating

Frank can't see his hands

Converse high-tops soaked

Pant-legs wet & clinging.

Now's the time
for that Dollar-Store pen-light
to pen-through
the damp and chatter

to reveal -

Rats

straight out of Hamlin

a dozen-abreast

dropping scat
like an asphalt re-pave

     rats

stretching further than Frank's weak beam
lets him see

snarled & squirming
up each other's butts
over each other's backs
mindlessly jockeying
     for position

Mumbai traffic jam

rats.

Frank kicks a dropout
that's stopped to feed

skirts a dirty-dozen fucking like Saturday night in rat-town.

It's always Saturday night in rat-town.

Just above
nestled in a nook
Mother Raven
taking a break
from the turning world
looks on with seen-it-all eyes
and a seen-it-all attitude.

Though they frequent
the same establishments
Ma Raven hates rats
  for their secretive ways.

Procession slows
fans out
flanks a scene
illuminated from a street-lit
storm grate.

Frank kills his pen-light
holds his breath
exhales real slow
   jaw-dropping.

Looks like
Saturday night
in rat-town
has turned into
Solemn High
      Sunday
    in Rat-Rome.

Sewer rat
Wharf rat
Ground rat
Tree rat
Field rat
Water rat

acolytes

up on their hind legs

Cassocks
rag and tatterered
black and stained

scarlet skull caps

puffing ce-gars and cigarettes
blowing smoke around over up to

There-He-Sits

on a white-metal lawn chair rocker
up on cinder blocks

SAINT IGNATZ

HIMSELF

naked

fat and pasty pale

rat-faced

Saint Ignatz

smile beaming

incisors clicking
so much joy in rat-town

Alleluia…Alleluia

blue smoke swirls
rising
up into light

furry chatter
loud louder

Frank
doubles over
gasping
dry-heaves

diverts attention

and

Ignatz

      Patron Saint of Rats

pins his pink eyes on Frankie

stands on ancient legs

and points

his pale and palsied

index finger…


To be Continued








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