Bone Chill

The alley men lit up cigarettes,

one dressed in brown lit up an old cigar

They all exhaled clouds of smoke

Inside the mortal night, inside the winter stillness

the billows of burning tobacco lingered

Second hand smoke, like alley lives never went far

Billy lost his mind,

Johnny drank too much,

and old Ralph had a little bit of both 

Some men died in stillness and silence, blue veins and needles

A final euphoria before a lone death took them home

The alley men snuffed their cigarettes on the tar below

The one in brown snuffed his cigar against the cinder wall

Billy,

Johnny,

and Old Ralph

Never played a song

Never sang harmony

They couldn't whistle either,

Not when there was a chill in their bones

They circled a barrel stuffed with smoking cardboard and waited for a warmth by fire, like a saxophone