-Shapiro's probability-

an appreciation of the film: "Stalag 17"

intro:

––Something's permeating the air of the Stalag.

Filtering through its frigid barracks the scent stirs,  

comically resolved through the washtub's tepid

potato soup-du-jour to scrub its socks. 

mud's requiem:

––The flatbed hauls Manfredi and Johnson

to closure from their brief respite.
Manfredi and Johnson are dropped to the mud's exhibition
with no such creative resolution as had the potato soup. 

Here at the Stalag it's all in the mud. 

So where's the relief from such an incident if not at the track?   

at the snack-bar:

––1. You can't get a decent mint julep anywhere in the joint.

2. Nearing post time. 

3. Place your bets in cigarettes.

4. NO BUTTS.

 scherzo:

––Animal's deliberation:

Schnicklefritz has Animal's instinctive cover.

But this rat's a long-shot of a horse at ten to one.

Maybe he's a mudder.

But this track's cardboard dry.

Animal's reluctant, but bet's-up by Shapiro's prodding

to the fleet-footed Equipoise.

and they're off and running.

a rondo of sorts:

––It's a fast track

and Equipoise has Animal's ten-smoke bet on its nose.

But Equipoise

ignores the circle of the track to track the circle of its tail.

Somebody should cut it off with a carving knife!

What the hell kind of horse is this rat, anyway?

It's Schnicklefritz by five lengths.

At ten smokes to one.

opera comique:

––Shapiro laments on clocking Equipoise that very morning.

Animal: "YOU clocked him?!   Why.. don't.. I.. clock.. you?"

and under the dark of the mud-in-the-moon

the Stalag's flatbed is emptied of it's cargo, the once

Manfredi and Johnson.

Fini