Carbondale (Tales from SIU)

College days, sometimes roving about on a slow night.

Always entertaining out there behind the train station.

Late at night there’s mostly the old black men sang of

In Steve Goodman’s City of New Orleans. There’s a

Better known version by Arlo Guthrie. Wisdom? It

Comes from toothless men high as hell on Muscatel.

Rants about life and experiences sometimes colorful

And sometimes sad. Sad to the point of pure misery.

Jokes and laughter sometimes escaping others’ grasp.

It can get a little wild.  A stumbling drunken stranger

Comes up and falls and passes out. The lead reveler

Of the night gathers the flock to anoint the now fallen.

Save the Muscatel, unzip the zipper and spray some

Peter juice, “I christen thee loaded, my son.  Amen.”