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

The Finale Known as Grace

Flying House

Frank

          Honest to God

found himself

in New Hampshire

under a bruised sky

up a tree

watching green hills

          rock thunder and storm

          like an ocean raging

          all a-havoc & destruction

                   of fences and cows

                   John Deeres

                   cars

                   farmhouses

                   telephone poles

                   the dearly departed

                             with their assorted and sundries

                   and

                   farmyard children

churning every which way

          around

          up and

          under

in an in-ex-or-able roll

and in-cred-ible show

of brute force nature.

 

Frank shaking like a leaf

wondered

          how the hell

          he was gonna get himself

          out of this one

and as nothing came to mind

          climbed

                   Yup

higher up

to thin branches

new growth

spindle greenery

all precarious

          reached

              and

          climbed

     

                        Steady now

into a window

          fortune-ate-ly, for-tu-i-tous-ly, and treach-er-ously

tumbling in the maelstrom 

          and found

                   Get this

the beautiful daughter

in a white night gown

on white sheets

under a white canopy

in a white room

                   Stick with me

and Frank said,  Dorothy?

          Dorothy said, Frank?

Frank said, How did you get in here?

          and Dorothy said, The prairie is an ocean, Frank

and then

Frank heard

the unmistakable

          ka-chung

of a pump-action

shotgun

followed by the voice

of the household's host

his best friend's friend

pronouncing as sharply

as New Hampshire granite:

          I think you've got the wrong room, son

As a lucky spasm of

          grass, dirt

          flint and rock

smacked the sun

turning all the white black

all the bedrooms into kitchens

and all the daughters to

          safely lighting lamps

                   and pouring wine

for Sunday supper

          and here's the best part

The household's host

his best friend's friend

asked Frank to

          Kindly say the grace, son

And Frank obliged with all the grace he could muster:

Thank you Lord

          thank you dear people

For shelter from the rising fields

Keep us, Lord,

from the temptations of trees

          and open windows

                   Amen.

And they all said: 

                             Amen.





PROLOGUE: FRANK'S ENCHANTED WORLD VAUDEVILLE (starring Frank)

FRANK'S LIBERAL EDUCATION

     (for Miller on his Thirteenth Birthday)

 

                      Raven on my Shoulder

Born of Frank, Sr.,

and Our Lady of Perpetual Longing

the fifth or seventh of eleven -

     who can remember?

Frank was brought up

     by a free floating family

          to float free.

An independent thinker.

Frank Sr.,

an odds maker

angle player

sporting life

as honest as anyone outside the law

taught him the higher maths of

     Infinity

     Eight ball

     The ponies

And lives captured in a dream

Taught him the benefits of

     Fi-delity and Loyalty

And the utility of a pocketful of hand-shakes.

His favorite uncle

a man of the cloth

taught him how to

     Play the piano

     Shoot nine holes and various handguns

     And communicate with the higher powers.

Uncle Sugar

might have shown him

how to snap a jab

and throw a flurry,

but ain't nobody saying.

Perpetual Longing walked him along the path of

     Reading books

     Recognizing love

     Keeping his own council
     And the equality of the great and small.

When he was a baby,

his auntie, Ma Raven, poked him in the ear

and left a message

Said to listen for her rough song

and when he was ready

she'd tell him some things

In time she did -

She told him the world was divided

between the agreed upon and the enchanted

that

mirrors, reflections

and surface things

could trap you twixt the two

and you had to get into something

     before you could get out of it.

Ma Raven told him to aovid rats

     she hated rats

the two and four-legged varieties

both recognized by their moving jaws and skittish behavior

distracting you with shiny things

while they eat you alive.

Most important, she said, don't be afraid.

Before he left home

Frank understood

you could pay a price for things

     that weren't for sale

And there was nothing

     you could steal

     that would do you any good.

He learned that life

     was a tightrope walk

with a bounce and sway

     that sent messages

          through his feet

               into his heart

                    and finally his head

He learned his body

always got the message first

     and the territory between

          what his heart felt

          and his head thought

          was a minefield littered

               with limbs, lives, and intentions -

                    good and otherwise.

Every animal Frank ever met

     taught him to nap anytime

          and eat when he could.

Wind taught him

     to expect the unexpected

And stars that there's no time

     like the present.

At times Frank thought life was just one goddamn lesson after another

     and with all these lessons he'd never get a day of nothing at all.

Frank got days of nothing at all - he didn't enjoy them all that much.

By the time Frank hit the road

he was prepared

for glorious contingencies

stray teachers

and all the visible-and-in

an enchanted vaudeville could offer.

Frank was happy to be

     Foot loose & Fancy free.

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

(baitsafe.com.au)

ST. IGNATZ (conclusion)

Ignatz

Patron Saint of Rats

pins his pink eyes on Frankie

stands on ancient legs

points

his pale and palsied

index finger…

Frank makes for the exit

feels claws and paws at his ankles

up his legs

pulled to his knees

swivels

one last look

Ignatz

levitating

feet above his sorry throne

Rat-Raptured

Ignatz

ecstatic

as

rats

When

RRRRR-ACK!

Ma Raven

announces

holy presence

holy rage

at

Rats

Ignatz

Frank

 the whole damn nightmare

of

no

good

reason

and for disturbing her solitude, god-damn it

RRRRR-ACK!

pushes off her ledge

double-somersaults in thick air

lands at foot of Ignatz' throne

shape-shifted

into

super-sized

jaws-agape

agile

  &

voracious

ALLIGATOR

Curse of Sewer Rats Everywhere

Swipes two-ton-tail

sends throne and cinder blocks

flying

Inhales

     Ignatz' Entire Congregation

Exhales

Dead-Breath Sewer Gas

tumbling Frank

back-back-and-out

to litter-dumped

headlight-swooped

rubber-on-road

horn-blare

entrance to this hole in the city

where he started his

careless

spelunking

and worse for the wear

beats tracks for

dream-scape he calls home.

Inside the storm drain

Raven shivers back to shape but huge

and Ignatz plops his sorry ass

back to earth

No dignity in dirty water

he scrambles to his feet

rights his throne

and has a seat.

Ma, says Ignatz, what the fuck?

Ignatz, says Ma, Frank is a civilian, out of his depth.

He volunteered.

You can't volunteer if you don't know what you're volunteering for.

Oh, come on, Ma, of course you can, that's called life.

But this isn't, and you and your rats disturbed me.

Not me, the guy with the laptop.

Who is also in for a big surprise.

Uh-huh, like how he's going to end this…opus.

I'll tell you this, nobody dies.

Oh?

Nope, you can't die in your own dream.

And whose dream is it, Ma?

Well, Iggy, there's nobody here whose dream it ain't.

And

at

that,

the city rolls to work

Frank rolls into bed

Ignatz sulks

Ma departs for less noxious realms

and the rats light up

  like demented elves

   chattering and scurrying

into another Saturday night in Rat-Town.

(drawing by Geoffrey Earendil)

(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 Niños.

(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

The Wonderful World of Storm Drains

(and with apologies to George Herriman, and Ignatz Mouse)

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

BACK & FORTH AND…

Frank spent a big chunk of time
hitch-hiking back and forth across America

Back & forth and
Back & forth and
Back & forth.

One day
hitching through Colorado
Frank caught a ride
with America himself

America
be-frocked
     in the red-white-and-blue
crossing country
in a rag-top black Cadillac
with his road buddies
Custer & Crook
heading for heroin-heaven
Bakersfield, California.

Mexican-Brown
they called it,
rhapsody and reverie
all in one.

Somewhere near Creede
America asked Frank to drive
so they could fix up
in their big back seat.

Frank
having neither license
nor clue
but being Frank
took the wheel
and lead-footing way over the speed limit
drove straight off the Continental Divide
into the galactic dome.

Those poor
  fucked-up
     junkies

one with a needle in his arm
one with a rubber hose in his teeth
and one with his finger tips on fire

got bucked
up and out
far beyond the Caddie's arc
to re-enter Earth's atmosphere

as three comets

thinking it was the trip of their lives

and it was.

Frank
white-knuckling
the steering wheel
and shouting to Gawd-Almighty

tumbled
down
down
    and
    down

dumping that car
in the flood swollen
Rio Grande
and slick as a panting Labrador
scrambled up to the highway
to catch a lift
with an 18-wheeler
heading for the Great Salt Lake.

When Frank told the trucker
about America & Company

(just to help him stay awake)

he pulled off the road
and kicked Frank out of the cab

all he said was -

Bullshit walks.  You are outta here, mother-fucker.

A harsh reaction, but they had hit Utah.

Frank's
next piece of luck
was a rental
and a pretty girl
from Cambridge, Mass.
heading for the airport.

She was to teach him
the pleasures
of flying

and put
all that

back & forth and

behind him.

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

FRANK SR.

One sober night, Frank talked about his dad.

You know, he said, Frank Sr. was a conjure man, and he had a way of magic that wasn't like all those other old men who called themselves conjurers.

Dad didn't rattle bones, or blow cigar smoke, or chant mumbo-jumbo, and he didn't summon nada and call it something.  He didn't do of that phony scare-you-to-death stuff.  He did something real, and a whole lot deeper.

Dad had this beautiful Stetson hat he called his "Stag O'Lee"

Black beaver

tall crown

wide brim.

He wore it to special occasions, and when he got home, he'd fix himself a whiskey, light a cigarette, balance his hat on the table - tilted on the crown - and here's what

He would look inside

and watch his whole day

play back in living color

That hat was like the 11 o'clock news.

A few times, if I'd been out with him, he'd mix up some milk and cherry brandy for me, and let me watch.

That was fun stuff - and I liked that milk.

But the real deal with daddy and his Stetson would happen when I wasn't supposed to be around, and had to sneak my way to watch.

Run-down saloons'

back rooms

forty watt

bare bulb

spiderwebs & dust

stained old

round old

old oak tables

rickety chairs with cane backs

Old timers

women and men

in dark clothes

drinking whiskey sugar sweet

with 7-Up or Coke

smoking up a blue haze

No music, no talk, no sideways glances

no sign of life except they were upright

drinking and smoking

And daddy

up on a stage

reaching

into some dry wells

and dark holes

of who knows who's soul

running centuries of memories

moving his hat in a long arc

over those hunched over dark clothed

women and men

Good times would rise up

young men young women fast cars

fast smiles

babies

Hard times

house fires - cyclones - divorce - loss

Worse times

brothers sisters gone missing

cancer - war

I could feel those things

Those old timers

I don't know

what they felt

sitting

enraptured

sipping their drinks

smoking

sometimes shuddering just a little

sometimes a sob, sometimes a cackle

a revival in reverse

until daddy finished

that long sweep

of his hat -

and

end of show

time to go

those old timers -

stunned

moving slow

one by one

or two by two - helping each other

out

into

bright light or

dark night

time of day

depending on them alone

by what they saw

or what they remembered

or how they felt.

Room empty, dad would salute the surroundings with an old fashioned flourish - hat in the air, and a deep, sweeping bow -

and vanish

just

like

that.

Uh-huh.

Dad went to deep places, and he paid by being like the air.  He didn't belong to anyone, and there was no keeping him in one place,

until finally he was gone - just like the air.

Anyway, that was Frank Sr., that was my dad,

I don't do that stuff, and wouldn't want to know how anyhow.

Things happen to me

     I just don't inflict them

          on others.

Willie Dixon - The Seventh Son

(2) FRANK'S ENCHANTED WORLD VAUDEVILLE (starring Frank) #2

INDEPENDENCE NOIR

        (respectful nods)

The morning of

his thirtieth birthday

Frank woke up

eyes a-flutter

then tight shut

in a hotel bed

right arm out

alone.

OK -

except

he remembers -

somebody.

No false moves now

Frank rolls slow

up to his elbow

eyes slit

nothing

     something -

nagging.

Bathroom

dark

leaves lights off

wet towels wet floor

robe crumbled in corner

torch tossed in tub

tiara hanging on shower head.

Must-a been some party, Frank.

Cigarette butt

in the sink

American Spirit

lipstick on the filter -

Her?

I don't recall, Your Honor.

Frank

throws the butt in the toilet

splashes water

wakes up a little less dead

gets dressed -

Where's my hat?

His star-spangled baseball cap.

Son-of-a-gun, she took my hat.

Shakes his head slow

skulks out the room

leaves by the stairs

won't trust his stomach to the elevator.

sunlight

Chinatown breakfast

over greasy and ham

rice

wonderbread - lots of jam

weak coffee

mumbles some give and get

with the cashier

not really up for bi-lingual banter

pays up - walks out

scans the street

looking for relief and -

Hey!  That's my hat!

Star spangled

waiting for a bus

Number 14 pulls up

just like that and

just like that

out.

Frank watches to

crest of hill and

gone…

gone.

Slumps on bench

looks at feet

smells cigarette smoke

American Spirit -

lipstick on the filter

picks it up

thinks about it

takes the last hit.

OK, keep the damn hat.

Frank color of concrete

fades into the city

city fades to black

firecrackers in the alley

with liberty and justice

for all.

             

                     ROCK SALT AND NAILS