Crazy Al, where are you buried?


I wonder to myself

on this bright afternoon

where do they bury the bums

that everyone knows

by first names


Crazy Al,

everyone greets him

with a smile

and a

“how ya doin pal”


no one asked questions

when he disappeared

just the kids

that could see him

on the streets

through car windows

on their way

to Sunday school


they just kept on moving


he went someplace else

and finally decided to leave town


is there an invisible cemetery

for all the invisible people

all over the world

to be buried in


do they have funerals

right in front of our eyes

down by the railroad tracks

asking each other

for cigarettes and wine

at the reception


bury me

in an invisible cemetery

with all the faces we don’t see

and all the stories we never heard


[BIO]: Jake lives and writes out of New London, CT and is currently the co-editor of Flying Fish, as well as the editor of Elephant.


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