Escape, Frederick!

Appeal by already free coworker 

from Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass

I knew your Master Auld. 

He was my boss on many jobs. I let him talk, 

and always he’d convince himself

he was the kindest master ever. One day, 

as he ran the winch and I was in the hold,

the cable slipped, or so he said, 

and caught my hand between oak beams. 

After the first pain, the thing went numb, 

a glove of pins and needles, until 

the beams were loosened and I pulled it out

and held it high. There it was, 

a hand without an index finger.

Master Auld was not a bad boss, 

or so he told me many times. Go home, 

he said, and sleep it off. 

I’ll hold this job for you until tomorrow. 

Joe Spires had a rum shop

not far from Lombard Street. I bought a bottle,

went home to pour that wicked brew

into a mug and soak my stump in it

and drink the rest. Next morning

I awoke, still drunk, and saw the empty bottle 

on my sill. The thought occurred to me

where I should put that bottle.

I bandaged up my hand and headed for the ship. 

Rung by rung, I climbed into the hold …

I worked that shift

and never did that thing I thought about. 

You see, my freedom holds me here 

to suffer evil fools like him—

but, Frederick, you have no freedom

and Hugh Auld is a master to escape from.

About the poet

David Salner worked all over the country, as iron ore miner, steelworker, librarian, baseball usher, and in many other trades. His most recent poetry collections are The Green Vault Heist and Summer Words: New and Selected Poems, both appearing in 2023. His award-winning debut novel is A Place to Hide (2021. His poetry also appears in Threepenny Review, North American Review, Ploughshares, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Sundial, and many other journals.