Primarily Poems of Prospect Heights, Pawtucket, Ri

By Thomas M. McDade

Poems regarding ups and downs of growing up in a Federal Housing Project.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas M. McDade
• Release date: Feb 19, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311708953

Thomas M. McDade

Thomas M. McDade is a seventy-seven-year-old former programmer/analyst residing in Fredericksburg, VA, previously, in CT & RI. He's married, has no kids, and no pets. McDade is a 1973 graduate of Fairfield University. He served two tours of duty in the U.S. Navy. [e-mail]

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Title Page & Licensing

Acknowledgements

Praise

Introduction

Poems 1—34

Poems 35—68

Poems 69—112

Closing

Title Page and Licensing

Primarily Poems of Prospect Heights, Pawtucket, R.I.

By Thomas M. McDade

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 Thomas M. McDade

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Acknowledgements:

Special thanks to the following publications that have published many of these poems: 265 Degrees of Grey, American Jones Quarterly, American Poetry Journal, Apostrophe, Blue Collar Review, Borderlands, Bull Horn, Catbird Seat, Chaminade Review, Chance, Chiron Review, Coffeehouse Quarterly, Concrete Wolf, Crimson Leer, Dead Snakes, Expressive Spirals, First Class, Fullosia Press, Gluestick Happy Hour Ice: New Writing On Hockey Iconoclast, In It, Leaf Garden, Liquid Paper Press, Listening Eye, Literary House Review, Literary Lunes, Literarily Erotic, Literbug, Lost Beat Poet, Lunarosity, Nerve Cowboy, Newsletter Inago, Old City Cool,One Hundred Suns, One Trick Poney, Opus Literary Review, Oyster Boy Review, Pawtucket Times, Penny Dreadful Review, Perimeter, Peripheral Visions, Physiognomy, Pitchfork Press, Plainsongs, Plastic Tower, Poets’ Podium, Potato Eyes, Potpourri, Rag Mag, River Poets, Rope & Wire, Slugfest, LTD, Stymie, Sophomore Jinx, Supernatural Magazine, Syncopated City, Synergist, The Moon, Velvet Box, Voice From The Beyond, Web Poetry Corner

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Praise

"Tom McDade’s Primarily Prospect Heights is large-hearted, tough-

minded and beautifully written. He never flinches from a

confrontation with the perils and sorrows of our day to day lives—an

engagement which, in these poems, often involves the infinite."

--John Skoyles, author of Secret Frequencies, The Situation and A Moveable Famine (May, 2014)

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Introduction

Note found taped to Brown’s drill press after he left EPS Industries for more lucrative employment:

Brown has moved on to greater heights – NOT PROSPECT.

Someone more familiar with Mr. Brown’s residency added:

(He’s lived in a Block 17 Apartment for three or four years now, asshole.)

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Poems 1-34

1. E Pluribus Aluminum

2. Pond Noise

3. Ammo

4. The Heights Hall

5. Mothers’ Aid

6. First Squeeze

7. 13W & 35E

8. Federal Housing Superlatives

9. Released Time

10. The Pirate

11. Big Jewelry

12. Summer Stack

13. Haircut

14. Exploitation

15. A Nickel

16. Bereaved Busboys

17. Bread

18. Grading Snow

19. Clunk

20. To Count

21. Aces Grown Old

22. Staccato Flashes

23. On Our Own

24. Sky

25. Pete’s Lawn

26. Black & White

27. Saints

28. Fakes Before Jumpshots

29. Prior To The E.P.A.

20. Dead Cigarette Packs

31. The Combine Combination

32. Rockwell Cover

33. More Money Than God

34. Shoot

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Poems 35-68

35. The Quarry

36. Calculating

37. What Was Boss

38. 1933

39. Caddy Evenings

40. Bad Water

41. Protection

42. The First Thing

43. An Old Guess

44. The Consolation

45. Island

46. Me & The Dragon Python Man

47. Opening Act

48. Labor Day

49. Cuisses de Grenouilles

50. Swamp Stocking

51. Angling

52. Gimp

53. Chewing

54. Popcorn

55. Tone Deaf

56. Hygienic Knowledge

57. Vandalism

58. Hollywood

59. Seamanship

60. The Emperor of Prospect Heights

61. Monday

62. The Cave That Drank Summer

63. Fantasy in the Clouds

64. Apprentice

65. Mr. Fix-It’s Dream Deal

66. Boxes

67. The Toughest Part

68. Handshake Cold and Rotten

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Poems 69—112

69. Freestyler

70. Adult Carbonation

71. Sixty-Eight & Four

72. Money

73. Songs

74. Codeine & Paregoric

75. Sir Parapet

76. Second Grade

77. Inhale!

78. Orthopterous Insects

79. Our Silent Applause

80. Next Week

81. Old Warnings

82. My Mother’s Life Enough

83. My Birds

84. Agawam Hunt

85. Wannamoisett

86. M-1 and J-1

87. Heights Kid Gone

88. Lash Larue

89. Morning Air

90. "Look for a Star

91. Forest & Gasser

92. Suzy’s Snack Bar

93. Thrill & Swill

94. Itching

95. The Ballad

96. Catalpa Tree

97. Pretty Much Defunct

98. Guppies

99. Permission

100. Thrice I Must Admit

101. Cold Cuts

102. Less Than Half Relieved

103. The Manager

104. The Mystery of Paul

105. Francoise, Nicole and May

106. Hurricane Carol

107. Chocolate Milk

108. Cages

109. Swings

110. Can’t Dance

111. Bricks

112. Benches

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E Pluribus Aluminum

When I left the Navy the first time,

jobs were easy, worked a year

of three-week stints.

EPS Industries was the first,

assembling doors

and windows second shift.

The company motto

was E Pluribus Aluminum.

Some guys on the payroll

were from the Heights.

We remembered swearing never

to slave in a Goddamned factory.

One Friday, drunk on Four Roses

near Dunnell’s Pond after work,

we sat on a wall WPA constructed,

discussed where we’d be working next.

Someone said Apex Rubber

was hiring—piecework was their game

and some jobs were so dirty

overtime was paid for showering.

Man, it was like a chorus to a song

the way we all chimed at once:

fuck that filthy hole—

E Pluribus Aluminum!

We roamed the Heights after that,

quizzing each other on who lived

in which blocks

when we were kids.

We shouted those names

like the lives behind them

were the stuff of mottos

we planned to live by.

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Pond Noise

(For Bill Arundale)

We used to loaf all night

sipping Narragansett Brew

not far from Dunnell’s Pond

in a dirt lot in back

of Prospect Heights

where we grew up.

Urgent sailor and soldier lore

smothered dashboard rock & roll.

When the world changed

on us and we figured the law

would doubt Project nostalgia

was the only drug we were after,

we settle up the street

where racehorses used to run.

Often childhood dwarfed

our service tales, we talked of kids

we’d never see again and