The second collection of poetry to be released by Thomas Porky McDonald, Downtown Revival: Poems 1994-1997, covers the poet’s most focused and (arguably) prolific period.  Written directly after returning to Downtown Brooklyn following a protracted suspension from work, Homestand opens this collection with a number of personal pieces.  “For Ever Friends”, “All These Eternities” and “Single Santa Fe Car”, as well as the title piece, show the poet’s appreciation for both the concept and the reality of home.  McDonald continues in this vein in Trolley Tracks, another collection that speaks to the inner soul of the man.  “She Smiles For You Ever”, “Once Upon a Time on a Platform” and “As the Pink Grayer Grays” live in reflective glances that are obviously revered by the poet.

     Ramble Poets, which McDonald himself considers his most structured and polished book of poems, goes back to the ballpark, in a way that is reminiscent of his first two poem books, Second…to Verse and Eternal Postcards.  Along with baseball pieces like “Safe Harbor” and “September Rain”, Ramble Poets also contains a long list of thought-provoking verses, most notably “Cross on the Red”, “When the Day Comes” and “Bleary-eyed Milkmen.”

     The final two books that appear in Downtown Revival are Gravy Man and Universal Loner, which appear semi-autobiographical in nature.  Gravy Man, in many ways as reflective as Ramble Poets, features some nostalgic material, like “Time Induced Lies”, “Hey Jack Ruby”, “P.S. 6 is a Parking Lot” and “Sunnyside Gardens.”  The tender “Waltz Into the Night” closes out this book and leads to Universal Loner, which could well be entitled “The Sad Poems.”  The title piece, along with “Scenes of This Earth”, “All Ashore”, “Miss Troubadour” and “I Never Went to the Polo Grounds” all shed a tear for a time lost.  The final poem of the collection, aptly titled “Until the Next Remember”, leaves the reader poised for the next five book set by McDonald, Closer to Rona: Poems 1997-1999, in which the sometime “gravy man” and “universal loner” finds love. 

       Thomas Porky McDonald is a poet and writer who often uses baseball and the ballpark venue to relay his views on life, in general.  His most recent release, Series Endings…a Whimsical Look at the Final Plays of Baseball’s Fall Classic, 1903-2003, was a distinctly different view of baseball’s modern World Series than most informational volumes of that American icon usually are.  A previous work, Where the Angels Bow to the Grass, A Boy’s Memoir, taken mainly from the writers’ childhood days of the 1960’s and 70’s, described the bond between McDonald and his father, Bill “The Chief” McDonald. In addition, his three-book anthology Irishman’s Tribute series, which paid homage to many heroes of the past, also honored his father, the de facto Irishman noted in the titles of this collection.  An Irishman’s Tribute to the Negro Leagues, Over the Shoulder and Plant on One: An Irishman’s Tribute to Willie Mays and Hit Sign, Win Suit: An Irishman’s Tribute to Ebbets Field each contained short stories and historical material, as well as a small dose of McDonald’s trademark baseball poetry.  McDonald has also published a book of short stories, Paradise Oval, and his unique New Yorkers take on 9/11, The Air That September, which gave an even deeper look into the soul of this most passionate writer.  Downtown Revival: Poems 1994-1997, is his second of four poetry collections, which will collectively span the decade of the 1990’s.  The first collection, Ground Pork: Poems 1989-1994, was released in 2002, and the remaining volumes, Closer to Rona: Poems 1997-1999 and Still Chuckin’’ Poems 1999-2002, will arrive in the very near future.  Born in St. Albans Naval Hospital in Queens, McDonald has lived in nearby Astoria his entire life.

Ramble Poets

They sat there north of the knee-deep chapel,
with a slice of hope on the while;
The drunkard, the spaceman and the ramble poet -
He the one with the most Catholic smile.
The first, he seemed unforgivable,
and was scoffed at, out loud and in quiet;
The second, he dodged falling bell towers,
and could count all his toes in a riot.

The third, he of course merely took it in;
Made up life at is came out at Noon;
Only certain of one on the tablet thought:
Was it time to be speaking too soon?

He got up to explore once again the world;
Bought a coke and a paper for the two;
Melding softly outlandish in the transient crowd;
Always ready to relate what he knew.

There are times when the rules are forgotten;
We are forced to revile while we pray;
All the ramble poets will express this;
Since they’ve been there, or so they can say.

Cross on the Red

Many are the reasons
to see life as hard,
when Justice is merely
a word in the air;
If you’ve been neglected,
you keep up your guard,
and search for some friends
who will care.

There’s time in a loss
to find a warm bed;
There’s joy in a
fresh, filling meal;
Where Smith turns to Jay,
they cross on the red,
since that’s just about
how they feel.

Creation was blessed,
but somehow it swayed;
Tearful angels mull and pout
through the trees:
There are some folk out there
that we must help today;
Our hearts only can explain
which are these.

We should leave the express
for a slow moving lane;
Simply do what we
have to, for now;
Across all the strife,
and the suffering and pain,
we must reach for
each other, somehow.