James Casey

Young Hood

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

Poem Submitted: Friday, December 24, 2010
Poem Edited: Wednesday, April 6, 2011

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