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