jake st. john | where have you gone, crazy al?

Where Have You Gone, Crazy Al?

Crazy Al, he limps faster
down the sidewalks
of my youth
some say he may
have been a veteran
the sun in the sky
by the church
and manicured lawn
past the old
Catholic school
that’s run out of funds
closed down
and then became
run down
the more they call to him, Crazy Al
on those sidewalks
in the blue afternoon
of my youth
the more I can see
the old town
a group of kids
who heard stories
and now wanted to hear
his view of the world
with their own ears
Crazy Al, his pace quickens
never flinching
or turning his head
keeps his distance
from this pack of howling punks
he disappears into the first
convenience store he can find
probably to buy a pack of cigarettes
the same store
still doing business today
Crazy Al, he looks at us when he exits
responds in a straight and sad face
“sorry kids,
thought you were communists”

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