I See the Boys

12

I See the Boys
((Of Donkeyland) (1960s))


I see the boys of Cayuga Street; it’s summer (it is in the early sixties). They are sitting on the steps of the neighbourhood grocery store, in the evening it will be the church steps, down on Jackson and Sycamore (with the heat, and the summer winds).

They are talking about the neighbourhood girls chewing on green apples from old man Brandt's backyard—next to the empty lot.

These boys of the neighbourhood—called Donkeyland by the police—are curds in their recklessness! Sweet and sour, like honey on fire: the jacks of folly, with fingers like bees.

Here in the summer's heat, they sneak under bridges, catch pigeons, scale the beams with no doubt; even in the dark they feed their nerves. After twilight, after leaving the church steps they will go down to the train tracks, open up a boxcar empty it out—jump over the cemetery fence, and get wasted with the cases of beer they’ve stole—no doubt.

I see the boys of Cayuga Street, it is still summer they divide the night and day with mental images of what they’re going to do: they got on dark shades; and as sunlight paints in the moon, they are building bonfires in the empty lot (over by Indian's Hill) to party soon.

By the looks of things some will die young, others in the war in Vietnam; still there are a few others who may die old, and perhaps alone...

There, in the night all the houses and everyone in them are sleeping, but the boys in the neighbourhood turnaround (some have chains of keys hidden behindtheir coats: Mike, and Gary and a few others will borrow cars to ride throughout the neighbourhood tonight, putting on a show).

All the boys, are with their gals, holding onto their bottles of beer, and wine and whiskey: smoking, joking: a fight or two most likely will come about: Big Ace is making loud noises like singing that damn old Black Bird song, dancing hoodwink like—David laughing, I'm somewhere around; it's a hell of a crowd.


4-22-2008 (#2359) Dedicated to the Donkeyland Gang of the 1960s