not a good fighter        but managed to        get into some        brutal
back-alley        fights

the darkened mind        too much to        drink        and        I always
picked        the        biggest meanest        fucker        I could find
winging and        catching        shots        to the yells        of the
whore        bystanders        I took some lovely        beatings        most
of the time.

“Hank,” they        asked me        one night        “we want you to      join
the gang.”

“I can’t…”        “can’t…why?”        “I got something        to do…”
“well, o.k.,        then…”

2 days later        one of the gang        was wounded in a        police
shootout        another was killed.

I moved down        to a bar        3 blocks east        sat        waiting for
the        moon to change        into the        sun
sat        waiting for something        or other

waiting for little        Bo Peep to        Poop.