Young Hood Poem by James Casey

Young Hood

Standing with hands in my pocket by Cranes luncheonette
Fumbling for the matches to light my remaining cigarette
The man upstairs got cancer, I do feel sorry for him
He was a good man, always lookin kinda grim

Where the hell has Kenny been hasn't been around
He owes me money, man, hope he hasn't left town
Now it starts rainin', a sputtering sort of rain
Sure hope it washes all the soot quickly down the drain

Well, here comes Kenny now, a smile and tales of sorrow
He has no money now, but promises, tomorrow
I would like to see him curled up in the gutter someday
Then we could have a hard rain and wash him away

Oh, happy day! the sun is out making an angled shadow
The rain has stopped, all of that I can certainly forgo
I feel like the last man alive staring off into the sunset
With a handful of memories, all of which, I'd just as soon forget

Jim 1956