Monday, September 07, 2009

Quezon City

The Caloocan twins from Quezon City worked as grave diggers for the Druidic Funeral Home, the eldest brother Abel working a shovel like Portuguesa mason. Axel, the younger of the twins, an artisan at lowering coffins into 2½ foot wide holes, never once loosing a casket tether or breaking an Eisenbrandt coffin lid. The Gaborone brothers live behind the times in a makeshift lean-to behind the canebrake behind the Druidic Funeral Home. Originally from Cathedral City, which they fled the year the sky fell into their clapboard house, the brothers arrived in town the day after the Feast of the Redeemer, 1950andaught. Carrying in his satchel a feuilleton from the Countrywide Interrogator, Goral, the eldest of the Gaborone brothers, pulled his ragtag blanket over his head, repeating to himself ‘Solemn strikes the funeral chime. Notes of our departing time, As we journey here below Through a pilgrimage of woe’[1]

Written over the door leading into the Druidic Funeral Home was the following: o don' inoperante; desgaste de t guantes de la puta, guanto della prostituta luva, da meretriz es muerto. The Caloocan twins, Abel and Axel walked fleetingly in through the front door of the Funeral Home and sat down at the back of the chapel, Abel whispering to Axel ‘this place gives me the creeps’. Axel whispering to Abel ‘Mortals now indulge a tear; For mortality is here! See how wide her trophies wave O'er the slumbers of the grave’
[2] At that moment Goral Gaborone, his brother in tow, barged in through the buckboard doors to the chapel, exclaiming ‘Calm, the good man meets his fate; Guards celestial 'round him wait. See! he bursts these mortal chains, And o'er Death the vict'ry gains’.[3] On the heels of the Gaborone brothers, Goral pushing past the sanctuary picket, his brother in tow, the Marouflage constabulary entered crashing through the side door, the head constable crying out ‘Here another guest we bring; Seraph of Celestial wing, To our funeral altar come, Waft this friend and brother home’.[4] Not one to be outdone, Axel Caloocan yelled ‘There enlarged, thy soul shall see, What was veiled in mystery; Heavenly glories of the place Show his maker face to face’[5] his cheeks puffed out like soft melons. Then a crash and a bang and in through the pulpit trap rose the Witness, his gowns overflowing the altar. ‘Lord of all! below - above- Fill our hearts with truth and love; When dissolves our earthly tie, Take us to Thy Lodge on High’[6] said the Witness, putting an end to the unruly outburst.

[1]The Masonic Dirge” Transactions, Texas Lodge of Research, Volume XXXVI at Pages 47-55.
[2] Ibid, [2] Ibid, [2] Ibid, [2] Ibid, [2] Ibid.

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"Poetry is the short-circuiting of meaning between words, the impetuous regeneration of primordial myth". Bruno Schulz

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