“Day of Fire”

Canto 1

So young still in such a tall and noble life
I found myself lost in woods silver,
The narrow windows' light veiled in smoke and strife.

Ungodly night fell on the Hudson River
Steel cage of piers became my prison
To bend, contort, and see a city quiver.

So sink in sand will some if not uprisen
Take the good from high and watch them fall
The just and right won’t stand to hear your reason.

And by low sloped light I saw The Lady tall
Until the smoke obscured her bright torch
Enraged clouds went through a street where stood a wall.

Eleventh day and hour eight on minds would scorch
So many steps I took up and down
When others looked below to see but a gorge.

My working pages floating drifting turned brown
At 24 I too from this earth
Yet forever resting in this noble town.

A silver bird with windows along its girth
The light was wrong there vested on wings
Did it know its end the day of fateful birth?

Yes, you know the winsome song it always sings
Now it made a loud and grinding din
Just before the daily market bell so rings.

At school with my caged stick I’d aspire to win
From line to line with eyes on the goal
No prize today unless to save my own skin.

We worked up high and tethered unlike the soul
The plane then arced unnaturally low                                              Someday another bell would take its sad toll.

The silent clock ungodly minute did show
We passed by fire into a new age
The East and Hudson truly seemed not to flow.

Unearned in print upon its featherless page
Our country’s name and its business on it.
Cursed number eleven began to rage.
                                                         
In my view and others’ not ready to quit,
We watched in awe its turn and descent
I wished to turn back and cry in a fit.

The moon was only now in a slim crescent
Its face must have turned away in fright
This deed far worse than nighttime storm so recent.

When late summertime embraced us with its might
These last days before the autumn wind
Eleven very days from encroaching night.

This evil bird now showed us few its shark fin
And flew into our twin with loud clap
An orange ball remained where it had once been.

The sight of steel and glass with yawning wide gap,
It made us from fear scream that moment
Flying by there seemed to be a ripped wing flap.

The night before the lightning was an omen
The green lady seemed to turn in shock
But my thoughts now turned to another woman.

As Tower One began to shake and rock
I grabbed the phone to reach my mother
In all I had in this life I now took stock.

Just this nothing else no need for other
‘Hi, Mom, I want you to know I’m Okay’ -
Our house of work was safe; not so our brother.

What tests and trials would I soon endure today?
The fireman steels himself and hurries
Debris and stocks now settled down on Broadway.

The lights flickered but we were told no worries
Some said, “The time of safety has ceased,”
The sky came down to earth in ashen flurries.

Then time went on: three past nine - a second beast
It spun its teeth and put up a fight -
Uninvited guest to nonexistent feast.

With wailing howl it came at us with its might
Through face but not mind it then did sheer
Threw us off our feet, but never from our height.

I went to stairs now for lower ground in fear
There was a slim man in the stair hall
“To warn me of some risk is why you appear?

Take pity,” I cried; “I do not wish to fall.
There was no time for a ghost to rise.
You're not so pale and surely you're not so tall.”

He answered me then with bright and sparkly eyes:
“No ghost; I yet live, and so should you;
I come to you as I am without disguise.

From France I came as the towers rose and grew
I live here still and come as your guide.
North to South in youth I walked - but some say flew.”

I said, “I know well of you and your famous stride
The air you pierced on nothing but wire
A feat seen on this plaza with love and pride.

Not ghost or god, but Zeus could get no higher
Such lofty act we will remember
I ran the fields but to THAT I can’t aspire.”

He said, “Thank you, mark this day of September
As my deed was good, today is all bad
The towers’ fame now floats down like an ember.

In more than birds are these foul beasts today clad
I guide you through fire fed by airflow
From 104 to one, but the way is sad.

We heard the fiend in ‘93 - then below
You must this day outdo what I did                                                        Aside please put my reputation aglow.

Please follow now; I lead you down through this grid
Forget please the steady number gain
Your athlete’s instincts you righteously rid.

Shy not from the howls of desperate human pain
That helmet for this you must exchange
Expunge a bit of September’s evil stain.

You will see results of hatred worse than strange
If they live or reach a higher plane
You must attempt to save them beyond your range.

I crossed the line to see the people’s necks crane
But your fireman’s courage must not wane
And across both towers I speak of the twain.

But first you must don your dyed and paisley mane
Your father’s red bandana you love
Redeem their blood, and with it fame you will gain.”

 

Canto 2

PASS NOT THROUGH ME ONTO THE ROOF JUST ABOVE
PASS NOT TO RESCUE BY SPINNING WINGS
MY GATES ARE BARRED TO BOTH BIRD OF PRAY AND DOVE
TENSION URGED ON A RULE OF CONCORDANT STRINGS
FEAR OUR AUTHORITY AND THUNDER
SUCH THAT HIDDEN LOCKING POWER ALWAYS BRINGS

These words inscribed above I read with wonder
“My Guide, I fail to see the reason”
He said, “Ask not; prep now for what is under.

We find the place where there is but one season
Never summer could cause such burning
You are here with me to affect some easing.”

Stairwells A and C stopped in their turning
I thought my life’s passage would now end
Except for love of life and yearning.

My hero athlete was confidant and friend                                                  He showed me perfect Stairwell B near
As if a just, mighty hand did somehow mend.

He said, “The cause of all this harm is up here,
Though he has no right place up so high
He makes all innocence and just roast and sere.

See whether his cloaked and daggered frame you spy
Hiding behind a noble ancient faith
That calls for none of the innocent to die.”

My reply: “I’ve heard of him, who means to scathe
There he stands at height some 15 feet
Surely he be a massive and mighty wraith.”

“Not he, this little man who suffers not from heat
He lives, yet his spirit comes to us
Exposed and trapped in a still transparent sheet.

You only see systems’ firm yet failing truss
Its mighty power comes from freon
Its rupture caused this lake of ice to be thus.

The evil souls of five who start this eon
We see through their lies and frozen minds
They thought their names would always blaze in neon.

It’s said the true learned scholar seeks and finds
Two towers on a plaza’s impulse
If they looked only east without hate that blinds.”

That is what he said before I seized from convulse
There in ice the mastermind of fear
I cowered at once from terror and repulse.

He had 10 faces plus one and all did leer
They cursed then the even feet of 10
Their coldness as great as long towers were sheer.

In his mouth were proud towers instead of men
The first was Bologna’s - likewise two
The next unclear but it made me say amen.

The third observed by all too noble and few
At Nile’s end the library once proud
Its noble learning the Beast did chomp and chew.

My guide then said, “Antennas now proclaim loud
Our learning and our stocks and figures
They soon will fall, but they and we are not bowed.

Ere we ascend below with the hour’s rigors
Observe with those binoculars there
Our city’s virtues and love now grow bigger.

 

Canto 3

 

Now come, toward salvation - away from this lair
I warn you of the eighth square that’s next
Where evil bird of late flesh and bone did tear.”

I followed him, where no scribe could tell in text
Forever cursed seventy-eight!
I almost fell and wept, such was I so vexed.

He said, “This is why they won’t forget this date!
This transfer point - no Limbo it is
The hapless sought to flee but soon met their fate.

But all too few still live, so here is a quiz:
Find all you can; their safety you own
To he who saves today honor will be his.

No formula justifies where fate has blown
The towers are but a MacGuffin  
To some the gift of life has with fortune flown.

One worker now the will of time will roughen
Why late today, this day of trial?
Saved by the odd hand of coffee and muffin.

And here’s a puzzle to add to the pile
One in a lift to test a theory
Gravity to try but thought he stopped the dial.

He lives, but other tales of chance are eerie
Some were told they could go back to work
From there you can surmise the end’s not cheery.

And from your task, great athlete, you must not shirk                            Your whole life comes down to this hour
They are waiting: trader, runner, and the clerk.”

There amidst the gore a woman did cower
A miracle there among that Hell
At least for then she stood with me in power

And others too through the smoke if I could tell
One beneath rolled her friend then off her
“I found the stairs; follow me,” I then did yell,

“Only help the one you can help,” as it were
To 61 we went together
For them and me it all went down in a blur.

There the bird’s calling card - an evil feather
In force it broke: a bit of fan blade
From above it came from the regions nether

I warned another there so after she prayed
She took me to a full water tank
Without the Godly staircase she might have stayed

Back and forth I doused some flames with her to thank
And saw another burned at her arms
I said, “Use Stairwell B, don’t try to flank.”

A man came forth to lead her away from harm
Then down we rose some floors as a pair
And never without my sweaty forehead’s charm.

 

Canto 4

My guide: “I lead you on to the canyons there
Yet please remember what I told you
To North are more victims the birds did not spare.

See through binoculars what no tourists view
No magic stairs will save those past 95
Yet below heroes to save the lucky few.

Fate too confused to judge who will stay alive
Able-bodied or not - no matter
A choice which way is death or else to survive.

Suffer the smoke or take a chair and shatter                                           The speaker’s voice that help was coming
To make your peace with God through all the chatter.

Hear voices drenched in fear; it's all too numbing
A padlocked door and forbidden roof
And add to that the nonexistent plumbing.

It seems to some there our city is aloof
It is the time for hard decisions
Who among the desperate could offer reproof?

Those judgements sound come not after collisions.
The conference now will take the minutes
How you die and with no chance for revisions.

There’s no choice right or wrong when panic is in it
A tablecloth for a parachute
It rips from weight or the wind will pin it.

For them above the fire death is absolute
But voyager, use my magic stairs
Abandon not all hope; be thou resolute.”

I said, “I cannot, Master, face such scares
Let me fight the one encased in ice
With him there is less consequence if I err.”

His reply: “Listen now, and heed my advice
Your talisman is your cloth of red
Employ some rope, the tank, or some such device.”

I said, “The frozen field is where I was bred
Let me fight the one in cloak of black
And with my stick I’ll glide until he is dead.”

He said, “Steel thyself, and fireproof do not lack
I only show you shades from afar
In your Tower Two the decks are not so stacked.

With me escape (for some) wreckage will not bar
There is a crack in terror’s foul plan
The seal of goodness has left a door ajar.

Here past the canyons of the stairs nothing can
No good rope to drop us past the chasm                                              Silver wire to cross them over has its ban.”

“Master, look,” I cried, “a falling phantasm.”
“No,” he said, she still is thus alive”
What he told me next made me seize in spasm.

“From the floors above the fire’s force did drive
Living souls who could not bear the heat
Instead of torture there they all chose to dive.

A Hellish choice neither way death to cheat
That falling red shoe is not the worst
Some went down dear God with heads below their feet

With air through silver trees the fire slaked its thirst
One poor soul blown away for five blocks
They’ll damn the flames that now makes the victims cursed.

In woods below they think they were past the shocks
Burning fuel comes down the shafts for them
Death on any door of any day yet knocks.

But not so on some lifts where came its mayhem
This I will not tell and do not ask
Suffice it to bow your head and say Amen.

 

Canto 5

As some in pride and self-righteousness will bask
They judge blithely in their easy chairs
To screen from home with pity is now their task.

You athletes know success and the days one errs
Your number was nineteen - just one off
The penalties from going outside the squares.

It is not for them at home to cuss and scoff
At choppers helpless to try to land
Or rising heated air, the wind, or pressure’s trough.

Unchecked words out of danger’s grip are so grand
These harpies do not stand at the edge
Theories false and zero ground on which to stand.

We can’t imagine thoughts right there at the ledge
Between the inferno and Heaven                                                               Or what they in panic curse, or damn, or pledge.

But, Nineteen, this awful tale I will leaven
The fault stands all at the door of hate
And so with luck let us depart Square seven.

 

Canto 6

 

Know ye we never left the South Tower’s gate
The sixth square you well know; so rise now
Descend above to wretched seventy-eight!

Now again in torment; wipe sweat from your brow
In woods see some struggling for a breath
Look not down to the floor, though I know not how.

You must grab them from the fiery hands of death
Gravely injured is one so be soft
Redeem the dead; out of Abel’s end came Seth.”

I went to the place worse than the Devil’s loft
Plucked some more fruit from the fatal tree
As many below picked I know not how oft.

I said, “I come for your souls, that they be free,”
They: “The exit is what we’re here after
We're all saved for painless life if simply flee.

The simple joys we want like friends and laughter
Do you not hear now our country’s song
From one below that fallen rafter?

Believing unseen voice to be in the wrong,
He tells them to ignore their orders
With funneled voice he says their lives could be long.”

I said, “A great man beyond fire’s borders
You’ll eat and drink and be in this world
Let’s go; think not of any warders.”

My guide said, “More burning fuel has just been hurled
From above there by the pilot traitor
With purpose spread about as the engines whorled.

This harrowing hell devised by a hater                                                    And the shocks make the ceiling tumble
Get through you can with the skill of a skater.

An office group tries to get through this jumble
The minotaur above guards this maze
Past fallen gypsum they struggle and stumble.

There gorgon fireballs they see through the haze
Inside one such there is growing fruit
Now unaware of the terrible next phase.

They think a waterfall now comes down the chute
One's fleeting thoughts now to light a match
But feels a warning at the top of her boot.

Intruder among them that entered this batch
Jet fuel that may anytime erupt
A miracle for this smart woman to catch.

And now fallen wall their escape may disrupt
Until they see light under a door
The birth of this child no assault will corrupt.

Another tale of one escaped from the gore
Suspended in air but not on rope
To die in this casket so close to his floor.

Instead of this fate he then clung to one hope
Open the trap and inhale the smoke
Far better that way and with that he could cope.

While preparing to say his last prayer then choke
His briefcase he wedges in a crack
From the eternal slumber he now is woke.

Another lift short just 10 feet worth of slack
‘In the name of God,’ the refrain
Out through the bottom she survives the attack.

And the strangest of all escaped Death’s disdain
On concrete slab he rode out the wave
To surf down to safety and then to deplane.

More tales of wonder and some others who save
Let us depart Square six
My thanks for the sacrifices that you gave.”

 

Canto 7

 

My guide led me to our airy River Styx
To meet one helicopter pilot
Who said, “Your crossing is barred; I cannot fix.”

My guide: “Use that bank rooftop for an islet
Send down a wire; save but a few
Your radio speaks the foul choice of Pilate.”

This man: “On roof - smoke and heat the evil brew
It is but impossible to land
So pity to you inside this raging flu.”

My guide: “My fault; on him is not the bad brand
Nor on those below us now clashing
But on those whose thoughts rest on hourglass sand.

Nineteen, the Furies sent to give this lashing
Will use any excuse to make strife
The Afterlife’s empty vault they are stashing.

They’d betray their own children or any wife
We are now on the floor of Square Five
You are better than they; you come to save life.

Binoculars use now to let your eyes dive
A large and sullen man cannot move
Refusing water to carry on and thrive.

His resolve for defeat is stuck in this groove
Good man yes, but goodness must go on
His water bearer this principle will prove.

To save one who’s really two he plays a con:
His words: “Give me just one more floor now,”
With a turtle’s pace they win this marathon.

Remember in the firehouse you took the vow
Parades are gone but now you must march
Emboldened by the red on your brow.

Your hard-earned sweat will now stiffen it like starch                              And here more sad eyes but with resolve
To help you through the twisted victory arch.

Your brothers and your painful wounds salve
They know their likely fate that’s above
Yet go on that humanity may evolve.

What drives the ever onward flight of the dove
If not that which built more than bowers
The empire is best which is built on love.

And next to it the plotting devil cowers
So Nineteen, go now; give me twenty
You must invoke all of your Hudson powers.

You are fire’s bane and The Lady’s sentry
Rise below with the firefighter
Save but few and therefore plenty.

 

Canto 8

Your counterpart lives, the fires’ true igniter
Extinguisher of flames, you’ll live on
In the feeble words of a safe screenwriter.

Although you may have reveled at your last dawn
You will carry the muse’s torch always
And from one will many red bandanas spawn.

But spy below to other squares not ablaze
The thousands into each other crash
Their tales are small and yet to hear will amaze.

On other floors some now make it through the ash
Now moving on but not with steady feet
Their helping heroes charge not the gates so brash.

The wheels for legs move along without a beat
No punishment here but a blessing
Truth be told it’s Fortune’s Wheel they rightly cheat.

In shifts some eight help one down without stressing
Then two help one - not asking her name
The rules they broke, the gift of life accessing.

Best of friends and some more will not fare the same                          When the hands of the clock come round
The welds will fail; Time will play its evil game.

And elsewhere spot a filthy and shifting mound
A heap of sheetrock and high plaster
Now one escaping man hears a muffled sound.

But what strong soul could live in such disaster?
‘Hallelujah, but there’s still a slough.’
The first: ‘I can save you if we dig faster.’

The trapped one: ‘I’ll dig but can’t scale the wall too.’
The first - a mild one, slow to anger
But irritation in him festered and grew.

A happy end to this intense cliff-hanger
The first: ‘You must climb over the wall.’
He gets the second now through his languor.

Who says: ‘You saved me. For you I made the crawl
‘Til now I never had a brother’
The first said: ‘Perhaps you saved ME with your call.’

Not fire but themselves with hugs they smother
From puncture wounds they show some fresh blood
So wrist to wrist by pact joined to each other.

As we are brother athletes too threw this mud
Let’s climb not up but down and right fast
The burning fuel just now cascades in a flood.”

And after my master’s words a fiery blast
From here on our trail was only to descend
Producers of our play with firefighter cast.

He said: “Their red with yours you must rightly blend
More than victims on your broad shoulder
You’ll carry prophesies of this epoch’s end.

And while the last of innocence will smolder
Let’s all through smoke alight in square three
To hear a future you will not when older.

 

Canto 9

We have arrived, and this square we cannot flee
The portent like a three-headed dog
September twelfth and on will not be so free.

Cameras everywhere and phone calls in a log
Good birds with leery eyes and wings clipped
And justify your letter; edit your blog.

Head Two concerns where some innocents are shipped
In the dash for revenge some are hurt
The Lady’s book and foundation will be flipped.

Head Three concerns expression but I’ll be curt
In print they’ll say sarcasm is banned
Redact your remarks for fear of seeming pert.

Someday the dog will watch where guard posts are manned
Not day of fire but day of water
Unjust response from above on our swampland.

And just cause at first will unleash a slaughter
The Lady’s torch sometimes at half length
This mother then will weep for son and daughter.

To sleep more rights put in the vault on the tenth
Then vaults themselves bring on a crisis
You can’t use Nepenthe, so gather your strength.

And nowhere to tie the failed ‘Knot of Isis’
The house of cards will almost crumble
The closed wine bar, the sober Dionysius.

Atop the wreckage this land will yet stumble
But speak no more; here’s a fiery hail
Below are vending machines that now tumble.

Inside them snacks worth more than The Holy Grail
Forgive their gluttony and their thirst
They eat and drink so that their weak legs won’t fail.

Most sin’s from intent, so the freon tank burst.”
My guide would speak of other heroes -
Compatriots and deeds as we went toward The First.

 

Canto 10

To feats of strength are some drawn on by Eros
Some with brotherly love affection
What pulls me from digits low and grounded zeroes?

My guide said: “Strangers know of your perfection
You move by love without condition
Through fallen walls society’s cross-section.

Agape is your only sin’s commission
You volunteered - fight orange with red
The sirens’ call, the start of the ignition.

Your helping hand now to others fast has spread
One wields squeegee as a fireman’s ax
Soon with help the foam and drywall will be shed.

With hook and ladder duties you were not lax
‘There is no I in team,’ was your quote
Let’s see how your strength against other floors stacks.

See through pier glass to North Tower five of note
By water’s authority they serve
Ensuring the good docking of plane and boat.

In harbor their ferries they just now observe
They too with passion once took an oath
To evac the stranded, boats make a just curve.

Inside these five chose to stay by love and troth
The leader was there in ‘93
The cobra spat venom to stunt trading’s growth.

Above floor 93 no one can flee
The leader’s wife begs him to depart
Your counterparts now rely on stairway C.

In hand crowbar and flashlight they make their start
From lift to lift they force in and pry
In memory the blueprints and every chart.

On floor to floor they barge in and cry
I.T. Oblivious in headsets                                                                        With stick they climb now to give the college try.

In different jobs but not of different mindsets
Take note, two go by fire warden
With stick their goal is to shoot away briquettes.

They grab evacuees and the floors cordon
Soon find a senior man hobbling
No Styx or Lethe, they’re crossing the Jordan.

Agreeing one will take him without squabbling
The chosen one is a priestly sort
And now with groans they hear the building wobbling.

The fate of their own 78 they thwart
Ah, do you watch a familiar game?
With life and limb they play - no Friday night sport.

‘Leaving 88 was the best choice, all the same.’
Those are the words of the priestly one
You see, Nineteen, you have sharers of your fame.

Hear now more tales of insides bright as the sun
The great firefighters - your mentors!
With both buildings equal; the battle’s not won.

With ax and meters they come in as centaurs
As you fight one hour they fight for life
Their chief directs loud as the Trojan Stentor.

Ah, music for the saved, like the drum and fife!
Commissioner - known for Irish verse
The fire bells’ discordant clangs the only strife.

They greet their fellow saviors; their words are terse
Here some now back though fully retired
They’ve all taken licks but never saw it worse.

Against the brotherhood terror has conspired
And here, two actual brothers split
The filial bond and duty have inspired.

So one is ordered up - duty not to quit
You may see him on your way forward
The one sent up will find the unending grit.                                             

The lobby’s far, but for it you move straight toward
That shiny marble floor like river
We’ll help you cross that water and move shoreward.

Wait still; here’s news to make your body quiver
The first fireman killed by ask not what
Not fair to take from him that was a giver.

So too for one with pain in his chest and gut
Their honored city fire chaplain
Inscription on marble page now sadly shut.

A woman conducted down by a captain
Amazing tale for the court docket
No logical mind would think it could happen.

Her group will soon hear sound loud as a rocket
She cries, “leave me,” yet they all remain
They’ll then find salvation in a small pocket.

Behold, there are two from ax and hose abstain
French brothers wielding camera’s witness
On film the fire’s image they can contain.

At stationhouse to film a ‘Probie’s’ fitness
They too and he will prove their mettle
Through lens marred with droplets, air stuffed with thickness.

Before the midday sun; gray dust to settle
The blue rescuers protect and serve
Earning every donation in the kettle.

So too the other blue ones rightly deserve
To lungs and hearts they quickly respond
Today as metal falls, greater frames preserve.

Before I lead you on to greatness beyond
You must harken to civilian tales
On some you will rejoice; on some will despond.

 

Canto 11

At once my voice and that of my guide now fails
We are filled with fright and more so awe                                      Somehow beside this every other tale pales.

My tongue can hardly speak of what we then saw
Across in yonder burning forest a man
Arrayed between two trees to break nature’s law.

His selfsame body a wedge to bridge the span
The narrow gap arrayed so slimly
At last fresh air but what could be his fool’s plan?

One hand one foot again he starts to shimmy
Decline like ours but on the outside
Floor by floor he crawls this smokeless chimney.

We witness this sportsman now from our courtside
He works without harness or lanyon
The streets are hushed - spectators at the curbside.

So each level serves right as Hellish canyon
There’s one floor line - a right proper score
Trees thin as alpine birch and not the banyan.

Now climbing through windows smashed here come some more
Now Hercules bows his head in shame
Heroic, brave, the heart of this little corps.

And we as well, athletes proud, must share our fame
Know even Hercules rested from his labors
With leopards the will for life is never tame.

Oh sing them loud with pipe and fife and tabor!
I think there was another climber
Who scaled the trunk; methinks he were our neighbor.

My guide: “Oh yes, our feats each a one timer
I walked across; he went up’ ‘twas done
By will - not with Father Time as chimer.”

The prize to rise and walk - what is better won?
Life itself is no competition
Their fate aside, their spirit’s not done.

This cloudless day no smoke to make petition
Let us lower us and heads and leave
Whatever win we make so with contrition.

 

Canto 12

 

Without the time to dedicate or to grieve
My guide and firemen led to floor first
To lobby’s gleaming floor - waters to relieve.

It seemed not as wretched or condemned or cursed
He explained this is where people wait
As those not in stocks or commodities versed.

Delivering victuals and fruit on a plate
And messages forever unknown
And too below the carting of precious freight.

Here too was a fireman who stood all alone
At water’s edge, meaning the carpet
We listened to the bones of the building groan

For icy fiends to fall in Siddim’s tarpit
“I’ll ferry you to the other shore,”
He said, and, “You’ll trade no more in the market.”

I said, “Not yet; to save most is what I swore.
I fought up Hudson in my green youth
Please take me up with you; more fights are in store.”

Then he: “Not all is mind there but tongue and tooth
But find there high altitude cooking
Burnt offerings made and served from bar to booth.

There Hestia presides, over hearth yet looking
Observing contracts over dinner
A tech breakfast today her final booking.

And with her there a culinary winner
Executive of stock and cheddar
His steward broke the cork - the only sinner.

The skewered hand with Atropos as threader
Her sister measures for longer life
Though evil’s eager hand becomes the shredder.

This chef by eye appointment spared from her knife
Aeneas, he, to watch Troy in flames                                                       With toque in hand then he went home to his wife.

Not only Chance and terror this day he blames
This Ishmael - the Dead’s smell and taste
To see through the smoke depends on how one frames.

So, get aboard my ferry and make thou haste
With firemen rest in Saint Paul’s Chapel
No windows broken there, on good love it’s based.”

I said: “Pity; with steel I’ll grip and grapple
My guide take now but I’m up a fourth
There’s no sin there unless it be the apple."

And he: “I recommend you run south or north
Perchance out there the sky is still blue
In safety’s arms you may your record call forth.

Know from this thwarted chimney many just flew
You see five firemen on that hose
Take note: eleven feet on a line won’t do.

You yet may to rescue men your question pose.”
I did; we agreed to rise again
My guide made prophesy by the smoke that rose:

He said: “pay heed to soothsayers and wise men
One by tall ships aground yet will live
Some outside the dark will stay in lion’s den.

There is a heavy price for the help they give
You visit Limbo; it will linger
Forever cursed day survivors relive.

Those men are hardly worth a raise of finger
They chase a plane, always pecked by gulls
Each failed flight school so terror’s second stringer.

Window’s Gothic tracery makes my mind mull
Another lady’s towers I crossed
No pretty sight gargoyle with raptor skull.

For modern Gothic I came here tempest tossed
For me no fire beneath my feet
For you no Cassandra to wail Troy was lost.”

 

Canto 13

 

My words: “Something I fear more than pumice sleet
I fear the trading was not my life’s intent
So traded application for ticket sheet.

Confessing to my dad I was not content
So lost in silver wood wandering
How sad a life of day trading to resent.

Please say that my life I am not squandering
To be a fireman is my wish
No NASDAQ but headband was I pondering.”

My guide: “Ambrosia will be your daily dish
Ignore the earthquake’s clamor
You’ll fly with birds as Poseidon swims with fish.

The plated floors come down without a stammer
Whilst pointed windows lift the veil
Dwell not on the sound of Hephaestus’ hammer.

There’s your muse, Liberty; her torch will not fail
At Hestia’s hearth you will all convene
Though towers fell, seek and see; I left a trail.

You’ll stay aloft while lesser frames now careen
This city will as the phoenix rise

 

Now walk between and know today I call you Fireman with blessed number 19.

 

 

 

By Stuart Arthur Kurtz

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