PENN STATION DREAMS

The God of Penn Station has next to no budget

And cannot afford much panoply. He gets catalogs

Offering to customize and sell entire pantheons

Which he seldom reads. Svevo, his assistant,

Carefully files them all against the unlikely day

When the God of Penn Station grows rich.

Since the Station never quite closes its god

Feels it would be improper in him to sleep.

Svevo sleeps for him though, and has his dreams

Writing down each one and sometimes repeating them

When the two of them and Fevrier, who does odd jobs,

Patrol the station around five in the morning.

“You dreamt your mother was a sewing machine;

She seemed happy and asked about you.

You dreamt you and the Gods of the Colosseum

Spent the night in a Roman karaoke bar

Where you sang Rodolfo’s last aria from La Boheme.”

“How was I?” “No Pavarotti, but not terrible.”

SPARAFUCILE

In time Sparafucile found Rigoletto confining

“An assassin should have more than one victim,”

He would complain. “Granted, I stabbed Gilda

When I meant to kill the Duke, but that

Was entirely her fault – read the libretto!”

He sent  feelers out, looking for other work

Asking Lucia why she would want to stab Arturo

And get all covered in blood when he,

Sparafucile, a professional, could do the job

So much more neatly and at a cost

Surprisingly affordable. Waiting her answer

He has moved in with Rodolfo, Marcello,

Colline and Schaunard. He makes them nervous

But pays more than his share of the rent.

Musetta has grown fond of him.