Louie wore a medal
on a gold chain
Saint Christopher
carrying the baby
across the river
used
to wear a crucifix
couldn’t stand the idea
of floods of blood
gushing out those wounds
much preferred the saint’s
protection.
Louie and his pals
coal hard lives
under pressure
no diamonds
just paychecks
every two weeks-
lucky.
Some of the guys
make triggers for bombs
over at G.E.
some of them stack tires
or sweep floors
day work different days
different floors
couple guys even get dressed
up – doesn’t matter
none of them was gonna be
millionaires
not one thought their job
would last.
After work
hanging out at the Broken
Inn
drinking
boiler-makers
somebody breaks
driving drunk heading home
high-beams catch the rear mirror
high-beams catch the rear mirror
hit the brakes hit the horns
rattle the neighborhood’s
cheap picture windows
4 X 4 doors slam
some asshole
charges off his front porch
cuts 'cross the grass
with a Glock
jerks rounds
jerks rounds
like it’s amateur hour
in Erie, P.A.
and Louie
trying
to talk his buddy down
goes down.
Holy fuck
guy with the gun
stands there shaking
pisses his pants
doesn't know what to do
doesn't know what to do
Somebody quick calls 9-1-1
Red lights flashing
and it’s all over
except what you’d expect
from a hundred hours of TV
Later,
after they book the guy
Social worker calls on Louie’s
mom
Louie’s mom calls Father Steve
Stevie books the funeral
home
and the church
Funeral home arranges the burial
Cemetery digs the grave
Cemetery digs the grave
And the guys’ll show up
for everything
viewing
mass
burial
reception
Louie’s brother, Andy, gets the St. Christopher.
Cold out tonight
street light
looks like the moon
hung up in bare branches
drunks think it is
dogs know better.
These are the times.
RW
Seattle
03.11.2019
(This is a fiction,
however, all the characters are named after uncles. Louie was a much loved priest. The Broken Inn was a real place, owned by my
Uncle John (not in the poem.) Uncle Andy
would sweep the floors in the morning. Uncle Stevie was MIA most of the time. The joint was closed down for liquor law
violations. GE made triggers for nuclear
weapons. I’ve stacked tires, swept
floors, and gotten dressed for work. Erie, P.A. is too real. We
all know about boiler-makers, don’t we?)
(photos: Broken Inn mine; streetlight Adobe Stock)
