At the wharf I donned the Wellington boots
Of the fisher deceased, to trace my roots
And see and feel what it was like at sea
For my uncle a fishing devotee.
The clammy boots were three sizes too large.
I kidded myself that I could take charge,
And fill the boots with fishers' gait and guts
Aware the concept was deluded, nuts.
I felt the lure of expectation loom
As the trawler 'Gen' breached to break dawn's gloom
I embraced the hope of a bumper haul
Of keeper fish, not tiddlers, way too small.
I felt the surge of waves tug at the boots,
Like tentacles dragging against the roots
Which held my soles fast on the slimy deck.
The sea incessant for another wreck.
I felt fish guts, innards, blood and gore,
Slather on boots as fish were brought ashore,
And unloaded in bins brimful with ice.
At days end, bootlegging was hard but nice.
Categories:
bootlegging, fishing,
Form: Rhyme
Grandpa Francesco Proia,
from Caserta, Italia,
a clever stowaway
in the bowels of the ship
bringing him to Ellis Island,
Feb. 4, 1905.
Gruff ways,
often snarling a guttural “Huh,”
a lack of English,
never-ending hand gestures,
made me fearful of him.
But awestruck I was
with the romantic notion
of his stowing away.
Bootlegging homemade vino
during Prohibition – another
plus as he captured my imagination as
un farabutto – a scoundrel, a reprobate.
Add in his being a coal mine boss
in Marianna, Pennsylvania,
and I had a genuine hero.
How many other children
claimed such details about their grandpas?
Never telling anyone
of my naïve admiration for him,
family loyalty prevented me
from bragging about him.
Living to just a few days short
of his “hunnert” birthday,
I loved and admired him to the end.
Even when the ship’s manifest
I discovered for La Lorraine
listed him as a passenger
in steerage, not a stowaway.
Categories:
bootlegging, family, grandfather, hero, immigration,
Form: Free verse
My fantasy, or secret life, reaches a bit far.
It has been with me since I was in my teens.
I wanted to be a musical phenomenon, a ROCK STAR!!
With all that being a famous rocker would mean.
My music, would be hard, but also so mellow.
My voice, could handle any range, any sound.
I could sing a song better than any rocker fellow.
I would perform, a major venue, always in the round.
Think of Ann and Pat, but more over the top.
On stage, in faded jeans, and a sexy shirt.
My look copied and for sale in the logo shop.
No bootlegging permissable, someone may get hurt.
I would stand in front of the mirror, album playing my song.
Had anything that looked like a mic held in my hand.
I would sing, and dance, in my bedroom all evening long.
What a performance, by me and my rock band.
After a show, we would chill, me and the band,
What a great performance we did bring.
Then on to the next gig, a real grandstand.
What a life, if only I could sing!
Categories:
bootlegging, career, celebrity, fantasy, funny,
Form: Quatrain
The Pirates
Pirates were around in the 16th century, they flew the
Jolly Roger/Scull & Crossbones and would loot and pillage
Ships at sea, for their rich cargo and gold doubloons
Over the years they have moved to land in guises as
Highwaymen and bushrangers, outlaws that steal money
As well as gold and defy the law. In modern times the
Pirate has become an even bigger threat to the film and
Music industry by bootlegging copies on videotape and
Disks, robbing performers and actors of their rightful
Royalties. Now in the days of the Internet, the pirate or
Modern day version known as a scammer, creates
All sorts of evil ways to attain money on hoax activities
Dating sites and social networking even through networks
With items for sale. Yes hoaxes and scams make up about
Seventy percent of Internet activities, which goes
Unpoliced, with people losing large ammounts of money
To these unscroupulous people every day. Can they be
Stopped? The answer is a mystery, as the world is losing
It's innocence to unstoppable theives we call pirates.
Categories:
bootlegging, social,
Form: Narrative
Full-scale warfare precipitates between two factions.
Many men tumble because of these actions.
What really started this thing, I do not know.
Both sides want to control the City of Chicago.
Police crack down on illegal gambling.
They are also after prostitution and bootlegging.
Within the city government, there is corruption and scandal.
It appears there is an excess for them to handle.
As far as citizens like us, things are not too fine.
They are as bad as ever in February 1929.
I heard many shots ringing out downstairs this morning.
A massive bloodbath has taken place without warning.
They say there are seven men lying face down on the floor.
The culpable individuals are not around anymore.
The responsible killers absconded without being seen.
The aftermath of this action is a most horrible scene.
On this Valentine’s Day morning, we are seeing too much red.
Seven members of Bugs Moran’s gang are now dead.
Categories:
bootlegging, historycity, men,
Form: Rhyme