Porkwalk: The Queens Collection

By Thomas Porky McDonald

Having packaged his more than 3,100 poems in chronological and themed collections, poet & writer Thomas Porky McDonald had the idea of putting together a volume of some relevant pieces that feature his lifetime home of Queens, New York. On addition, Porkwalk: The Queens Collection utilizes the same formula that McDonald chose in a previous collection based on his 20 years working out of neighboring Brooklyn, Dem Poems: The Brooklyn Collection. The 364 poems contained in this book are divided into sections, with old friends, his Astoria neighborhood, baseball and the losses he has suffered in the mix. This collection brings the poet back to where it all began and is thus arguably the most important one to date.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781665501835

Thomas Porky McDonald

Michelle Le Chen was 7 years old when her father was incarcerated in 1975. Her mother spent the next 17 years working for her husband’s escape or release. The rest of Michelle’s family escaped from Vietnam in 1979-80, with most of them settling in Virginia, where she would live for the next 25 years, before moving to Florida in 2014.

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© 2020 Thomas Porky McDonald. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 09/30/2020

ISBN: 978-1-6655-0184-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-0183-5 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

PORKWALK

The Queens Collection

Introduction – Coming Full Circle

1) From the Concrete Up

One of the Guys

Queensbridge

On Those Years

When Halloween is Moving Day

An Eventful Day

Jimmy’s Corner

One for the Saints

Faith Between the Lines

Some Came Lost

Catholic Boy, Wiser Man

Concrete Heaven

In the Streets

Onion Sandwiches

Sanitation Mornings

Tall Girls Blessed With Greasepaint

Heaven in the Alley

Teammates to Forever

The Fields of the Lost, Scattered Youths

Where the Angels Bow to the Grass

The Observer

All the Kind, Cool Catholics

Once Upon a Time on a Platform

An Astoria Night

Friday’s Run

Schoolyards Beyond Mind and Majors

Headfirst To Insanity

46th Street

Rapid Sublime

On the Tour

New Moon

A Walk in the City

Slices of Life

Remembering Jack Daniels

City Wanderers

Custodians of the Park

31-16

Reaching Back for Innocence

The Boy From Down the Hall

On Astoria Boulevard

For the Love of City Kids

Labrador Sunshine

Everybody’s Friend

Ode to the City Games

When We Were All Poets

How Young

As We Rumbled On By

Thoughts of Earlier in the Day

A Thing of the Past

A Big Small Town Known as Childhood

Bear Hunt

A Capacity For 13

For Chrissy’s Sake

Message to Fats

The Gate to the Schoolyard

Defer to the Soundtrack

To Be Children Again

A Weekend of Friends

Bohack in the Rear View

A Few Moments Before the Novena

Where Christmas Used to Be

A Time

All That Mattered

Streets I’d Known

Frankie’s Heart

The Saints Return

Connection

Altar Boys at Dusk

These Cathedrals

The Pretzel Stand

Long Ago Lately

Born in the City

On the Moon Two Score

Streets of Amusement

Who I Was

I’ve Never Forgotten About Friendship

Back to Astoria

When You Look Back For Your Soul

Scenes From a Lost Neighborhood

On the Kew

Those Left Behind

The Last Era

And Then the Boys Returned

Everyone and Anyone

When Loyalty Had its Say

Any Kind of Game

Dancing in the Schoolyard

When the Home Team Wins on Friday

Grammar School Coda, ‘75

Dreaming of Saying Good-bye

Hang-Out Nation

As You Walk Inside My Schoolyard with Me

Later

Astoria Dispatch

In the Shadows of the Bell Tower

Heavy Days

Catholic Girls

Catholic Boys

The Only Store Open

The Season of Hope

Somewhere Between Grammar School and Re-Hab

Somewhere Between High School and Homicide

When Rudy’s Had Cheeseburgers

Without the Birdseed

Once is a Place

Finding Tomici

2) Resounding Images

Like Sandy

From Charlie to Roosevelt, Rising

Sunday Morning Dreams

Rhapsody on the G

A Tear and a Smile

The Winsome Mare

Things To Do Today

Silent New Year

Baseball Saved My Life Today

The Greatest Gift

True Life Journey

Someday Demolition Men

One For All

Loved in Brooklyn, Blessed in Queens

Without Mom

Steinway Street

True Love Isn’t Variable

Homestand

Single Santa Fe Car

My Goddaughter

Our Girl Nancy

Dream For Now

Ramble Poets

Time Induced Lies

Dad on Pitching

The Game

Pass the Bacon

Ellwood Would Have Loved It

Begrudging Sunset

Thoughts Found Early

In Boxscores

Rue-Bop

Just a Balladeer

Lately I Find Early

The Signs of Decades Past

Farewell to a Season

A Gift I Will Share

Never Once Why’d

Jackie Still

A Bow to Mother

You’re Only Young Forever

The Shadows of My Mind

‘Least to the Heart Isn’t Fair

The Check-Out Counter

The Roads of Lives Away

It’s Funny What a Hat Can Do

An Apollo Stillness

In the Back Pew

Square With Yesterday

The Boy Isolated Where the Mirror Used To Be

The Challenge and the Chase

The Fat Parrot Diaries

For Guy Lombardo’s Soul

Armstrong on the Moon

A Peaceful Man

The Handshake Boys

Lookin’ Out Mikey’s Window

Frankie’s Cure

Frankie’s Sport

And Cagney

More Like Monday

An Andrews Moment

Back to Where the Kids Used to Play

One More Empty Seat

Ladders

Where You’re Not Supposed To Be

The Three Still My Own

A Reason for Thanksgiving

The Class of No Return

A Mighty Pride, Indeed

When a Gadget was a Gadget

A Simple Life

To Write a Letter

Bauer

Back When There Were Seven

Where Raindrops Smile

About Chrissy

Grand Avenue

For a Friend

I Used to Dream About Christmas

When You Can’t Go Down the Hall Anymore

What We Did For Our Fathers

Well Beyond The Day

In Our Time

Mad Memory

Walk Down 30th Avenue

Just a City Kid

What a Thought Can Do

Standing Under the Bell Tower

I Can Recall the Mother as a Child

When I Will Be Free

I Can Envision 46th Street

Ellwood in the Kitchen

Mostly Because

Since

My Chowder Stand

Children of the Decades of My Life

3) Far Too Soon

Twelfth of May

Skipper’s Song

Longing For Bagpipes

Let the Children Grow

Game of Catch

Rest Alive

Dead-eye to the Dawns

Chief’s View 59

P.S. 6 is a Parking Lot

Atomic Ellwood

Sunnyside Gardens

In Some Ways, He Was a Tall Tale

Steve McQueen and Him

In the Days of John Devlin

For the Skipper’s Friend

Just We Two

Until We Tell Stories Again

Eddie Isko

A Wish for Time

Until Until

Eternal August

A Believer’s Heart

Of a Time

A Friend Who Would Not Leave You

A Time For Old Irishman

The Pubs on Grand Avenue

The Greatest Days in Heaven

Winds off the Ocean

Coolest Three

Being Frank

Where the Cool Guys Go

Death of a Ballpark

Frankie’s Rules

The Dinner Still on the Table

Queries to an Usher on Doomsday

A Lot We Can’t Explain

The Window on the Second Floor

Only Four Decades Late

The Space Beyond 11¹th Street

What I Have of Him

I Wonder About Yesterday

A Final Opener, Indeed

Somewhere on Fifth

When the Bats Go Silent

After Yesterday

The Planes Weep Openly

And So the Fade Begins

The Plumber’s Helper

The Tale of Two Down

An Opening Day Loss

Schools Without Gargoyles

In Defense of Pepper Games

And So We Chase the Light

As Loyal as You’ve Seen

From the Old Neighborhood

As the Backdrop Slowly Fades Away

Not Merely to the Kids Now Grown

Is Father’s Day Eternal?

Wherever You Are

K.R.’s Dream

The Bell Will Ring

An Anthem Should Be Sung

A Dream of Shea

In the Shadows, Ellwood

Dispatch to a Friend

The Girl Between the Twins

Why Not in the Hall?

Leaving Breadcrumbs

Friday Night Prayer

The Basement of My Heart

Since Grandma’s Bell Rang

One More Game with Sal

The Voice of the Man

I’ll Look For You

Reaching for the Phone Again

In the Wake of 41

On the Night that Summer Ended

4) Ballpark Effect

Outfielders are God’s Caretakers

The Leather of Autumn

Shea in September

A Face in the Park

A Lefty Catcher

Baseline Buddies

Tale of a Father in Blue

He Mentioned the Scooter

Gil’s Mystery

Remnants of the Sacred Yard

A Festive Mourner

Carry On, Jack DiLauro

Have You Heard the Murph?

Ghosts of Innocents

Those Planes Are Screaming

A Most Welcome Rash

An Unlikely Stab

September Rain

Able to Find Cleon

A Swan in Queens

Two Men on the Lam

The Night We Couldn’t Get Home

Somewhere in the Flushing Mist

Two City Boys

Truly an Elevated Line

The Place That I’ve Gone All the While

Chestnut Air

Clutching in the Distance

Blue Velvet Nightfall

Anatomy of a Triple Play

The Call of the Green

October Sixty-Nine

The Peace We Find in April

Days of Two Times Nine

My Images

Twenty-One, Him and Me

When the Background Took On a Glow

In the Mezz Wearing Weathered Mesh

The Fences Were Green

The Peaceful Joy We Had

The Lead-Off Call

I Am Reminded of Stengel

All Those Sentimental Summers

Brother Wind

Where I Was a Child

Doubleheaders and My Dad

In the Stands With Them That Know

And Then a Plane Passed By

The Place of Your Life

Are There Other Ballparks?

Ticket Stubs and Autographs

The Lights of Skillman

A Ramp Overlooking Ecstasy

In ‘73

In the Upper Deck

Hey, George!

First Ladies of Flushing

Sittin’ in the Greens

Jim McAndrew Blues

Shea Forever

928

To Have a Seat Like Then

Every Time I Take That Ride

Agee and Jones

It Gave Us a Moment

The Seats That Have Come Back Home

The First Time I Saw Magic

Together One, as Always

When the Game Simply Took You Away

The Real Fan’s Code

If I’d Taken More Pictures

A Tale of Flushing Nada

Adieu to Jimmy Qualls

To the Old Yard

A Fire Lying on Down

To the Old Lot

All Along Tom Seaver Way

As if the 60’s Never Ended

My Encounter with an Eight-Year Old

The One Gave You the Game

Dad and the Outfielder

The Last Four Voices

The Backstop Remains

September of ‘73

In Conclusion

Believers

Breakdown of Porkwalk

Picture3.jpg

For:

Queensbridge Park

St. Michael’s Park

Astoria Park

Bulova Playing Fields

Flushing Meadows Park

Shea Stadium

St. Joe’s

McClancy

Trio Deli

P.S. 70/P.S 10/P.S 151/Bryant

My Astoria Neighborhood

and All My Friends from Queens

Picture4.jpg

In Memoriam

John Tortora

January 6, 1961-April 7, 2020

My Friend

My Brother

My Own

SOURCE MATERIAL

The 364 poems in this volume:

By Book

Second…to Verse (14) Eternal Postcards (14)

Some Came Lost (8) Fugitive in Your Face (15)

Out Here in Crazyland (6) Homestand (7)

Trolley Tracks (7) Ramble Poets (5)

Gravy Man (9) Universal Loner (5)

Season of Destiny (5) Life With Toddy (4)

Calamine Pink (8) Locomotive Limbo (6)

Legendary Unknowns (6) To Thrill Again (5)

Underground Auroras (9) The Corner of Catharsis & Epiphany (9)

Vignettathon (4) Hobo Freight Dreams (5)

The Roads of Lives Away (8) An Apollo Stillness (5)

The Itch (7) A Different Hunger (6)

Troubadour Sundays (4) The Fat Parrot Diaries (10)

Drifting Shadows (4) In the Alley (5)

Frankie’s Rules (7) Old Phenoms (7)

Theresa, Red & Serenity (7) Contemplating Farewell (8)

Whispering to Heaven (6) On the Steps with You (6)

The Wonder of the Silver Wonder (10) Born in the City (5)

The Class of No Return (6) Touched by Life (6)

Back to Astoria (4) What Lies Ahead (5)

The Last Era (4) Ourselves Alone (13)

Hearts Wide Open (7) Checklist Mode (8)

Seasons in Solitude (6) For the Road (8)

I Can Almost Hear a Soundtrack (8) To the Old Lot (9)

Random Considerations (12) My Chowder Stand (12)

By Collection

Ground Pork: Poems 1989-1994 (57)

Downtown Revival: Poems 1994-1997 (33)

Closer to Rona: Poems 1997-1999 (29)

Still Chuckin’: Poems 1999-2002 (32)

In the Cameo Shade: Poems 2002-2005 (30)

Vespers at Sunset: Poems 2005-2007 (33)

And These Thy Gifts: Poems 2007-2009 (37)

After the Dream: Poems 2009-2011 (26)

Next Things First: Poems 2011-2017 (38)

Last Things Now: 2017- 2020 (49)

INTRODUCTION

Coming Full Circle

A book of Queens-inspired poems was way overdue by September of 2020, after having written 3,116 poems. More than a decade before, I put out a book called Dem Poems: The Brooklyn Collection, which celebrated the 20 years that I worked in the Borough of Churches, where I first found the poetry within. My Dad’s old team, the legendary Brooklyn Dodgers, were one of the main catalysts back then and I knew that I would have to one day write a companion volume, of sorts, featuring my team (and my Dad’s), the New York Mets and the Borough where I was born and have lived in my entire life.

I have broken the pieces up into four distinct sections, though there are a number of poems that one might argue could have been put in one (or more) of the other sections. For those multi-faceted pieces, I just tried to slot them into where they most applied in my mind.

Astoria, Queens has meant everything to me. This book contains many direct Queens references and others that were born of my life, through the years. The title of this volume comes from how I would sometimes walk extremely fast in my younger years, almost bent over like Groucho Marx, usually when I was blazed (though I continued to occasionally walk this way as I grew older and didn’t party anymore).

The Porkwalk was a neighborhood trademark of mine, a term given to me by my best friends, at a time when we were still young and absolutely out of our minds.

(1)

From the Concrete Up

The idea of compiling a book of purely Queens-related poems had to include a section that was true to the way I grew up in Astoria, Queens and how those streets had an absolute effect on all that I would later write about.

In this section, my beginnings and various reunions I have had, officially and on the fly, so to speak, help form what I see as a concrete up appraisal of what Queens has meant to me. We were raised, nurtured and dedicated to the people, streets and neighborhood that we grew up in. We would carry that legacy on to those that we would pass through as we got older.

ONE OF THE GUYS

To the left were the heroes of my protocol;

They wore no sequins, and God, no suits or ties;

Not a crease, nor a chink in their armor,

just a cap that said I’m one of the guys.

They looked down and saw good in my madness,

and I settled in their glory, just to bask;

I wished they’d come alive, here in my kitchen;

Now is that really all that much to ask?

It’s just a game you might say, you unenlightened;

Well, I know you don’t mean to feed the storm;

As the rain rages on outside my window,

I paused to notice that I had never felt so warm.

The room is quiet, but the volume is in the memory;

A new at bat for the one who always tries;

Isn’t a man, still yet a boy, until his deathbed?

Well if he ain’t, at least I’m still one of the guys.

QUEENSBRIDGE

It’s louder now; and dim and wet;

The grandstand’s wounded, with no regret.

The old pool I never knew is gone;

My memory wakes, and carries on.

The bridge so far is closer now;

The City asks not why but how?

Streetlights and gates, both on the bend;

They’ll never break, these lifelong friends.

The dirt is clean; the grass is real;

One quiet moment of youth to steal.

The edge of Queens; our fate was here;

Out in leftfield, it’s all so clear.

The world it’s there, right in your face;

But who connects the boy with grace?

To feel the fire and give your all;

Majestic heights remain on call.

And number one is number three;

Though intertwined, oh don’t you see?

The park lies still; the field alive;

The perfect cure for nine to five.

Eternal peace caught in a view;

That tells us what we always knew;

An uncut diamond; a perfect lawn;

Postpone the dusk and live at dawn.

The little players begin to play;

Just as we did, back in our day;

No mind to outcome; no mind to score;

They’re by the shore, forevermore.

ON THOSE YEARS

There is no fever quite like

that adolescent pain;

Meeting with that guy emotion

as he struts off laughter lane.

Suddenly sure of one unsure fact:

You’re a cat that may land on his back;

All concerns pile up waiting for flavoring,

like morning pancakes, in a neat stack.

The past immortal, the future uncertain;

What comes between a yardstick for sure;

A freight train loaded with variables and options

at a time when you are still so pure.

On reflection, you’re left realizing,

there’s but one thing that you can see;

Those who exist only in the mind now

need a heart just to continue to be.

WHEN HALLOWEEN IS MOVING DAY

When Halloween is moving day,

you’re not quite sure you’ve left;

You feel as though you’ve found a clue;

Your sidestep’s somehow deft.

When decades turn on windswept nights

that howl beyond the moon,

you wonder if the time that was

has ended all too soon.

When children who are conscious yet

can’t really know the score,

are carted from their