(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                                                                     

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

I'm dedicating these to Frank T., not because I think he's anything like the title character, but because he's the shape-shifter who could best read him, if it ever came to that, and, well, he's the only Frank I know in real life, except for an old Army buddy that I haven't seen since the misty sixties.

1.  How to Quit Smoking

Frank was standing under a rusted out, WPA railroad-bridge trying to catch a smoke, when an outlaw wind caught him off guard

spun him around

knocked him to the ground

flew up his pant leg

forced itself under his jockey's

and blew into his asshole

with so much force he exhaled out of every other orifice for three weeks.

He was the old lady who swallowed the fly - in reverse

Farting -

birds

cats

dogs

and goats

out his

eyes

ears

nose

and throat,

and finally

wheezing

enough dust to fill up a whole new Oklahoma.

When he was done

he dropped to his knees

and drank up the Wabash River.

For over a month

Frank roamed around

pissing and dribbling

hundreds of un-named waterways

around dozens of previously unknown national parks.

It's a wonder he didn't rupture something.

It's no wonder he gave up cigarettes.

WABASH CANNONBALL

Theme & Variations: Now I Lay Me Down

1.

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
If I die before I wake
I pray the Lord my soul to take.





2.

Animal Warmth

huddled drunk and reeking
in each others arms

wet wool and sleeping bags

overflow the threshold
of our deco doorway

one step above the flood

barely out of the rain


3.

Animal Warmth

Now I lay me down to sleep
huddled drunk and reeking
in each others arms

I pray the Lord my soul to keep
wet wool and sleeping bags
overflow the threshold
of our deco doorway

If I die before I wake
one step above the flood

I pray the Lord my soul to take.


4.

Now I lay me down to sleep

Recline and rest

Soft as
cloud or night

A promise then perhaps.

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

I in hand with me

You

hold

This sparrow thought.

If I die before I wake

Gone
before
we are

awake
asleep.

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

We ask your hand
to always hold
the us we are with you.


5.

Recline and rest

Soft as
cloud or night

A promise then perhaps

I in hand with me

You

hold

This sparrow thought.

Gone
before
we are

awake
asleep

We ask your hand
to always hold
the us we are with you.



6.

Animal Warmth

Now I lay me down to sleep

recline and rest

huddled drunk and reeking
in each others arms

wet wool and sleeping bags
soft as cloud or night
overflow the threshold
of our deco doorway.

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

a promise then perhaps

I in hand with me

You
hold
this sparrow thought.

If I die before I wake

one step above the flood

gone
before
we are

awake
asleep.

I pray the Lord my soul to take

barely out of the rain
we  ask your hand
to always hold
the us we are with you.

LAST CIGARETTE

I like to rhyme, and I love song lyrics. I'm getting down to work with a musician friend, and we'll see if music can even fit around these structures.

In the meantime, here's a new one.  Came to me while I was tossing and turning, and I got the first draft on my iPhone while lying in bed.

Gotta grab 'em when they come.

LAST CIGARETTE

Hey there, sweetheart

walking in the rain

smoking our last cigarette,

there's something you need

and I know what it is,

you just ain't found it yet.

It's as close as your heart

as close as your veins

as close as your bright red blood

and the name in case you forgot it

is l-o-v-e, love.

Now you can look for love

in your high beam lights

you can look most anywhere

you can even look on the internet

maybe you'll find it there.

You can fall to your knees

and kiss the sky

say a prayer like you believe it

but there's nothing out there

but the blue beyond, and only as far

as you see it.

You can toss, you can turn,

roll around in your sleep,

you can throw your arms out wide,

you can shake your blankets,

straighten your sheets,

flip your pillow to the cooler side.

It's right here, baby,

as close as your veins

as close as your bright red blood,

and the name in case you forgot it

is l-o-v-e, love.

So, come back to me, honey,

let your guard down,

you're the best sight I've seen

and I mean it,

you're just as soft

as the night coming down,

won't you let me stand in-between it -

As close as your heart

as close as your veins

as close as your bright red blood

and my name in case you forgot it

is l-o-v-e, love.

top photo - no attribution

bottom Oimax photo used through a CreativeCommons agreement

CARIBBEAN/CHICAGO

Inside the turquoise
sensations ripple
like sunlight under water.

We were living in a fever dream
and laid the odor of decay
around us like a trap.

In bed for days
we'd eat the little birds
that died while banging up
against our eyes.

The telephone rang and stopped…

     rang and stopped…

     rang and stopped.

Our friends gave up on us
we invented new friends,

The Oracle read:  "No Blame."

She became thin and pail
her eyes were red rimmed
her lips were flowers
She said the city poisoned her.

Arguments began
and we'd nourish them
as best we could.
We'd dress them up like children
and send them out to play
in the alleys of our neighborhood.

We'd slip inside each other
and not come out
until our tears
filled goblets.

We cracked the turquoise
with the violence of our games.
Opened doors and windows
so the arsonists could do their work.

We ran to separate churches
and watched the fire
from different parts of town.

The Lake was frozen
Ice was everywhere.

The wind.






(1984)

KILLING TIME IN HONOLULU

 Reflecting on an incident in the life, lo, some thirty years ago - or so.

I was killing time in Honolulu
waiting for an ocean liner
coming into port
a little later that same day

I was sitting in a bar
drinking cognac, smoking fags
had no friends, no close companions
no reason for to stay.

At noon some messed up whore
came pushing through the door
the daylight shooting in 
was so bright I couldn't look

She swayed while she was asking
if I'd like a little action
I said, I've got no time
I want to finish up my book.

It's a sad old world we live in
disappointment follows pleasure
and we've never got enough of what we get
we think if we keep punching
our lives will come to something
but it's not much that life has ever come to yet.

The whores of Honolulu
break their bodies serving sailors
used up and then discarded
looking bad and feeling worse
while their pretty little daughters
chase after tourist dollars
down in Waikiki a limo
could stretch into a hearse.

Had to grab my change and step out
watch a rat crawl down a building
put my shades on duck my head
and walk down to the docks
Where I got a job, and got a berth
and life could be a whole lot worse
I could be a figher bleeding, crying
looking for another purse.

I was killing time in Honolulu
waiting for an ocean liner
coming into port
a little later that same day

I was sitting in a bar
drinking cognac, smoking fags
had no friends, no close companions
no reason for to stay.

BACK TO THE ISLAND

GINSBERG MADE ME DO IT

Here's how it happens:  words start unrolling between your ears, and maybe you could stop them if you wanted, but you're too damn curious not to find out what they're going to be, and how they're going to end, so you grab your notebook and pen, and start taking dictation.  Anyway, that's how it happens for me.

Bob Dylan said writing the fifty-four verses in the first draft of Like a Rolling Stone was like vomiting.

Henry Miller said he couldn't shut the words off, so he wrote them down.  I think that was Sexus, Nexus, and Plexus - three volumes, thousands of pages, god knows how many words.

Phil Ochs said he couldn't get the words to come. He killed himself.

I started the morning reading "The Lion," by Allen Ginsberg.  This is what it led to, and except for crossing out a few words it's un-edited:

SPONTANEOUS MAUDLIN GINSBERG

One of these mornings you're going to wake up cold with not enough covers to roll you back to sleep

One of these mornings you're going to wake up tired with never enough sleep never enough sleep

One of these mornings you're going to wake up hungry and old Mother Hubbard will be blowing on a thigh bone trumpet

One of these mornings you're going to wake up lonesome with no one around but the stubbled reflection of the self you need glasses to see

One of these mornings you're going to wake up with a stomach as big as a baby elephant - you've got a lot of nerve, Ganesha

One of these mornings you're going to wake up bleeding from every hole

One of these mornings you're going to wake up with stars in your eyes and concrete in your head

One of these mornings you're going to wake up spouting gibberish your dog actually understands

One of these mornings you're going to wake up to a bowl of cold cherries wet and slick, and a glass of cold water, and you're going to enjoy the fuck out of them

One of these mornings you're going to wake up dead, and won't that be the last available straw…

Get outta here, Allen, I'm up, already.