in Coney Island
a bit past midnight
my pint half gone
yet somehow happy
don’t know why
don’t care
just dwelling there
a young guy appears early twenties
no shoes sores on his feet
suit jacket no shirt
cigarette dangling from dry lips
head bobbing back and forth
puts the coat over his head
at times an eye peers out
searching
flip the bottle
into my mouth
gulp
nearly gone
hold it out
for the dear lad
to share this strange midnight joy
eye retreats into dark cloth
I wait
still hiding
the bottle returns
a deep swallow
until the Jack Daniel’s gone
the eye appears
searching
but
too late
now.
the story of his life?
my life?
Charles Chaim Wax
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/kansas-fried-chicken/
