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Puppets by Rosa

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travel

TRAVEL

introduction

DC-3 be gone

alligator, part 1

the view

the skyline

alligator, part 2

elvis souvenir

orlando, florida

going back

the world

music up above

on quarry road

hold your ear

it’s a sunny morning

shakespeare

marvin gaye

out on the porch

screen windows

this is also

funeral home

nursing home

storage center

last will

an ordinary sight

more hornets

the haunted cabin

1953 nash metropolitan

goodwill

sam francisco’s restaurant

the first morning chore

i wear a blue coat

two sleeping children

up here

it seems like

introduction:

When I began this cross-country journey

in the airport line, hurrying to put things

onto the track and plastic bins, I lost sight

of my family and stepped into the Full Body

X-Ray Scanner they use for terror suspects.

A serious guard told me, “Stand this way.

Don’t move for ten seconds.” Too late, 
I said, “There’s been a mistake! I shouldn’t 
be in this.” Then they insisted on doing 
a body search. They had seen something 
suspicious. An old man tried to be kind, 
nevertheless had to pat me down and 
prod and afterwards he explained what 
he supposed the trouble was.

I left my notebook in my shirt pocket.

To me it feels natural and it’s nearly 
always there so I can write things down 
as I travel this science fiction country.

DC-3 Be Gone

I was doing some gardening the day before 
our vacation clipping around a patch of red 
cedars when I saw my first DC-3. The silver 
wings on it blinked. It got so close to me it 
stung my elbow as it veered back to land. 
I could see where it went. There were others 
too, coming and going. I quickly stepped

away to a distance where I could watch safely. 
They swarmed about. I had stirred them up. 
As I observed them buzz angrily over the 
treetops, I knew what I would have to do. 
You just can’t have an airport this close to 
your house, where you like to garden, 
where your children play ball with a 
zeppelin, where your wife likes to read 
billboards in the sun. So I went

to the store to the aisle in the back. It’s 
amazing, there’s a deterrent for every 
possible pest. There were hanging sticky

strips for P-51s and traps for Greyhound 
buses. If there’s a freeway running 
through your yard you can get rid of 
that too. I found what I needed, a can 
of spray on the shelf with big bold 
orange letters, DC-3 Be Gone. I read 
the tiny directions. It looked okay. 
I bought it and brought it home. 
The rest of the day I watched out my 
window, waiting for the sun to fall,

keeping an eye on that spot where 
they flew in and out. Those directions 
written so small on the can told me to

wait until well dark or early morning 
when the quiet air was cool and still 
and the DC-3s were all fast asleep.

Alligator, part 1

We were met at the Florida airport 
by a big white van that took us to 
the hotel. Along the way, staring at 
all the nighttime lights reflected in 
the swamps and ponds beside the road, 
I asked the driver if there were any

alligators out there. “You want me 
to stop so you can find out?” she 
replied. No, I didn’t want to find out

that way, carrying luggage and 
slogging through mud. I found 
alligators a different way. I found 
a lot of them.

*

*

*

The view from the seventh floor window 
shows the blue pool below surrounded by 
the many lights of amusement parks. 
The kids are hungry and like a father bird 
I have to fly out and look for food so I 
take the room key-card and twenty dollars 
and ride the elevator down.

*

*

*

The skyline is made of weird contraptions

like Frankenstein’s laboratory. Screams 
and some parrot-bird sound came from 
a welded umbrella high over the sidewalk. 
It was getting towards twilight, neon lights 
were on. I could see a place that sold 
take-out so I crossed International Road.

My path meandered though, since I 
reached the grassy median, I headed for 
a tourist store instead.

Alligator, part 2

The tourist store had the usual things

you’d expect to find. I was sort of looking

for an alligator magnet to put on our 
refrigerator when we got home. I found 
one too, for only $2 but by that time it 
was too late for alligators. There was a 
shelf right behind me piled with real 
alligator heads. They were petrified in 

all sizes, selected I guess to fit any 
tourist bag. At the drug store next door 
there were even alligator hands, 
chopped off and bound to sticks

to use as backscratchers. I don’t know, 
what do you say to that sort of thing? 
I bought my bag full of waters and 
juice and left the air-conditioned store 
for the hot night. I walked back to 
the hotel alongside an irrigation creek, 
black and soundless and choked 
with weeds.

Elvis Souvenir

We like to know

you’re still around

joining in our lives

Orlando, Florida

cartoon clouds

shoulders bright

with lightning

Going back

in a dream

climbing over

the obstacles

time put in the way

The world

in a window

on a street in Ohio

Music up above

a dove playing piano

on a black wire

On Quarry Road

the car just misses

a yellow butterfly

Hold your ear

up to the wall

you can hear

The Thomas Merton

Machinery Works

It’s a sunny morning

there are raindrops

left in dots on the sand

Shakespeare

oven-hot day

a 1949 car

Marvin Gaye

the alley echoing

let’s get it on

Out on the porch

reading the paper

birds, crickets and breeze

Screen windows

no thoughts

thunder far away

This is also

a good time

to take a nap

Funeral Home

Probably not many people go to

a Funeral Home on their vacation.

We almost missed it, having to

pull in the exit. The director was

out putting poison among the flowers.

Nursing Home

‘Larry knows you are here.

You live here now,’ written

on his wheelchair.

Storage Center

It used to be a lumber yard.

That accounts for the huge barn

and the wide gravel parking lot

filled with old boats and old

cars turning into statues.

A man comes out to open

the locked door of the barn.

It’s huge like an overturned

wooden ship from long ago

where there are rooms under

the beams and cobwebs.

Larry has the padlock key

and we go inside a small

narrow storage room.

Boxes are stacked up.

Books with poetry

Gorky, geology and

Lake Erie Indians

all as quiet as dust.

Last Will

Bill is leaving his money

to the communist party.

Today, four of them showed up

in a sedan from Chicago

three old men and a girl

An Ordinary Sight

I spotted it go by

from the kitchen window

so we had to grab our bikes

and track it down on

the neighborhood blocks:

Seneca Avenue, Mohawk Drive

left on Franklin to Winona Ave

finally catching the tall sight

as he came up Kiwanis

in the shade of elms.

He slowed and I asked him

what’s it called that he rides.

“It’s a High Wheeled Bicycle.

Back in the olden days they called it

an Ordinary Bicycle.” Of course

because in those times it was 

only an ordinary sight.

More Hornets

I didn’t expect to be called upon

to kill hornets again. After Ann

was stung in the hand when she

touched the hose to wash

the lake water off, I knew

what would have to happen.

Like some Western movie

gunslinger I knew what to do.

We went to the hardware store.

The heat pounded on the tar

parking lot. There was a dog

at the window looking out.

She’s there all day they’re open.

When we got a can of spray

the dog hopped her front paws

on the counter as if to take our pay.

The Haunted Cabin

We were driving Route 6. I was looking

for signs of the Drive-In movie theater.

This one used to be in a field somewhere

along here. Sometimes there’s not much

left to go on, tall weeds and gravel.

I couldn’t see it. Then Larry mentioned

The Haunted Cabin. He wanted us to visit.

He tried to convince his grandson to have

his birthday party there, but the boy chose

a pizza parlor instead. Can you blame him?

Who wants a haunted cabin? The car took

a right turn towards the lake and I asked,

“Why’s it called The Haunted Cabin?”

Before Larry could explain, we were there.

Under a pile of shady trees, a cement house

with flowers growing around it and a sign

in front naming it, The Enchanted Cottage.

1953 Nash Metropolitan

A couple days ago I mentioned

we were at the storage center.

The picture of an old car there

drove us back here again. I told Larry

I couldn’t get it out of my head

it just had to be the cover for this book.

So we returned on a very hot day and

parked beside it. A little time machine.

While I took photos, Larry opened

the glovebox and found a bees nest.

Goodwill

There were five boxes of 
Super 8 film reels. My heroes, 
Charlie Chaplin, Laurel and Hardy. 
I like to picture someone finding them

someone who comes along into the store

and sees them glowing there and knows

just what to do. In the cricket night

set up a projector, aim it at a garage

or a wide oak tree, make sure 
everyone’s around and let it roll.

Sam Francisco’s restaurant

is nothing but the sign

facing the road

The first morning chore

Ann waters the flowers

from the rainbarrel

I wear a blue coat

from a 98 year old

communist milkman

Two sleeping children

I guess they won’t remember

I kissed them and flew

Up here

seeing what

clouds see

It seems like

a quiet or a calm

has gone away

photos and writing

allen frost, august 2012

Also made 5 hand sewn copies of this book.

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