The Whistler, Willie Snakes,
The Major, Richie The Roofer,
Uncle Sonny, Gilbert,
Larry, the WWII Marine
They all roamed the streets
Constantly drunk on
anything they could afford
Living in the woods
on old couches,
old chairs
A clique of misfits
Some fought in
World War Two
Only to end up
on suburban streets
And
one by one
they died
The American Wino
wearing tattered overcoats,
Charlie Chaplin baggy pants
needing haircuts — shaves
Where are they
even buried?
Long Island’s Homegrown Art & Writing Zine