BIG JOE HAMMER by Salvatore Buttaci

BIG JOE HAMMER DR0VE THIS CAR

BUT THE HAT HE WORE ON HIS HEAD

Yuh want my real name or duh one duh guys gimme

back on Grand Street when I wuz twelve or doiteen?

My mudder give me names long as yuh arm!

"Where dja dig 'em up?" I used  tuh tease de ol‘ lady..

Back in a Ol' Country––Sicily––dey han’ out names 

like candy: da more da sweeta.

 

Dey name me Giuseppe Gaetano Angelo Martello.

Ain't it a mout'ful?

Giuseppe wuz my granfadder, 

Gaetano my old lady's brudder in Crown Heights,

an' Angelo, duh name a duh baby my mudder lost

when he wuz maybe two.

 

Martello: that's my last name--dat means "Hammer"

so, growin' up in Williamsboig, Brooklyn,

ain't nobody gonna ask fuh ya baptism papis, right?

Ain't no way I'm gonna say, "Call me Giuseppe," right?

From duh woid "Go" dey wuz callin' me "Big Joe Hammer"

I wuz big, know what I mean?

An' I hit like a hammer: I busted heads.

Yeah, nobody messed wit' Big Joe Hammer.

 

What's that? My family? My blood family?  

You mean my mudder, my fadder, coupla sisters.

When dat baby Angelo died in duh crib

I was duh only boy, an' Pop said "Stay in School.

Loin duh books. Go tuh college  and be somebody."

You hear dat?  Be somebody.

 

Forget about it!  I wuz already Somebody.

My old man he wuz woiking day an' night

Pressin' suits in dat hot room. For what?

So he could oin hisself a heart attack

And die two weeks before his 50th boit'day?

Meantime I'm runnin' numbers ona street

for Mr. Innocenti, makin' bucks

to keep my mudder an' sisters eatin' good.  

 

Mr. Innocenti he liked me, said I wuz tough,

an' time came he kept his woid, found a place

fuh me in duh family: a soldier. 'magine dat?

I'm twenty, still wet behind duh ears an' duh Don says,

"I want Big Joe Hammer in my family.

Bring in Big Joe Hammer."

 

How 'm I doin' so far, Mr. FBI.?

You cops’re woise den headshrinkers.

Dey say, "Go on, go on."

You guys say nuttin'. Yuh nod yuh heads.

 

Okay, okay, I get duh idear:

Ya want me tuh get tuh da juicy stuff,

How I wacked "One Eye" Gaspari,

an' "Wee Willie Corsini,  an' Johnny Brass,

an' "Popo Dick" Riccardo,  Tanuzzu Nardini,

"Jumpin' Joe" Di Rosa, Turi La Rue, Tony "Pipe Man" Pippilini,

Little Alfo Romero, The four Scorpato Bruddders,

Mikey "Duh Vampire" Bruno, James Butlini...

 

Ya gettin' all dis down, Agent Henderson?

I ain't so sure dat notebook's big enough.

Dis Hammer put duh nails to more coffins

Den you kin shake yuh billy stick at!

Okay, okay. No sense a huma. I gotcha.

Jus' duh facts, Maam. Like ol' Sargeant Joe Friday.

Jus' duh facts. Where wuz I duh night a--

You name it! Ev'ry nighta de week 

 

In a good year I'm puttin' duh lights out

on wiseguys steppin' on Mr. Innocenti's toes.

I'm crackin' heads, offin' guys dat's been on too long.

Early mornin' till late night

I'm out dere doin'  da job.

On my boitday I'm celebratin' wit' da guys

in the village, the family restaurant, see?

 

Den a coupla dese same guys get wacked––

By me! Afta duh calamari, espresso,

spumoni, it's Goodbye, Goombahs!

An' when I get home duh wife says,

"Joe, you have a good day? You look tired."

I gotta laugh, ya know?  Yeah, I'm tired

But not as tired as dem four joiks 

In dere concrete jackets sleepin' 

wit' duh fishes in duh East River.

 

Ya wanna know why we come ta dis now?

Why me, Big Joe Hammer, 

becomes Big Joe Canary?

Why I toined in da family?

"Mickey Mouse" Innocenti, son of duh Don,

Dat's why. I shoulda moidered duh bum.

 

 

He made deals wit' duh Columbians,

he closed his eyes to what duh hard heads

from Calabria wuz doin' to duh business,

he took money outa dese  pockets!

Woise of all, dis Mickey Mouse 

put the woid out to hoit me poissonally--

dis Mouse dat ain't woit' da sweat

off his old man's brow,

He gives da contract to Vinnie "De Knife"!

 

Vinnie! I went tuh P.S. 82 wit' duh guy.

We wuz punks back den, shakin' down kids

Fuh dere lunch money.

I brang duh guy inta duh family!

Now da woid is Vinnie "De Knife"

is comin' ta carve me up.

Friendship don' mean squat.

Yer own blood will kill yuh,

So why not an ol' pal?

 

So you tell me, Mr. Agent, 

I lie down and die or ev'ry man fuh hisself?

Forget about it! I'm here to sing like a boid.

Frank Sinatra's got nuttin' on me.

Welcome tuh duh Hit Parade.

It's time for Goodbye, Goombahs again.

Goodbye, Micky Mouse,

goodbye, Vinnie, goodbye,  dat ol' gang a mine.

 

Yeah, you gimme a new name,

A far-away new place tuh sack out.

Witness protection? I ain't stupid.

While I'm on da subject:  

It's Goodbye, Little Joe Hammer.

Goodbye, Giuseppe Martello.

No matter how ya fry it, Man,

Yer lookin' ata guy good  as dead.

But if I gotta go out,  I sing good an' loud,

an' take down the rest of  'em wit' me.

Before de woik day is over,

before duh coitin comes down, 

dis hammer's gonna bang just a few more nails.  

 

                #

 

© 1997 Salvatore Buttaci

 

 

Salvatore Buttaci’s two collections of flash fiction 200 Shorts and Flashing My Shorts are both published by All Things That Matter Press and are available in book and Kindle editions at http://www.kindlegraph.com/authors/sambpoet  

 

His new book If Roosters Don’t Crow, It Is Still Morning: Haiku and Other Poems

http://tinyurl.com/76akl73  

 

Buttaci lives in West Virginia with Sharon, the love of his life.