embarked on this Mississippi River ship
gazing overboard
considering the uncertain turbulence,
the cook busy's lighting ovens
baking warm up pleasure pastures.
inside this obstinate river vessel
enigmatic stainglass of extreme inflections,
this kitchen soldier
first summons his strength
then distances any recognition from
the close proximity of green baby bean existence
and coquettish sweet smiles
springing from watchful alleyway lookers out back.
our solitary figure while filleting a sole in a flurry of flour
pauses for a peek through the occasional swinging canteen door,
noticing another party about to be organized at the clack of cleaving,
observing familiar sparks curving around stove corners,
observing a dog fight among waiters embroiled behind tables and barstools
all tangled up from their yelping tongues
waiting their shift out in this cozy diningroom.
down Laclede Avenue there is a park built by a hero.
his cause was just:
saving certain insects
crawling and winged
from going extinct.
now his statue is half gnawed away
standing solitarily
below a rusty St. Louis archway lamppost.
the chef’s work has at last truly begun
as Leo is witness to other armies,
retreating forward
their effigies remaining
their causes continuing noble
their backs to lesser kitchens.
St. Louis
1974