After living in Los Angeles for many years, Jake is now back in his home city of Boston. Runs rad restaurants. Thrives in a habitat of bars, punk rock shows, and late-night adventures. First published in 2014. Journals include Catch & Release, Boston Poetry Magazine, Indiana Voice Journal, and thirty-five other fine periodicals.
Raise a toast to the lowlife brahmin!
Leave Boston to the Street Dogs!
The lawyers and doctors and learned universities
Left the city in droves, should be hanged for atrocities
They called it the Incident, clapped their hands and just left
Packed up their hedge funds, emptied the city coffers and hope chests
They tried to scuttle the ship, fucked over the Red Line
So we had a T party, my mates and I, cigarettes and cheap wine
They burnt Mass Ave with economic bombs, left it cold and dirty
We’ve fought for these streets before, brother Johnny, tell them your story
They took their money and fled the streets, the winter geese have flown
We gather at the pub in Savin Hill, you know the one, and if you don’t…
We once chased ice cream on our streets, our youth was not misspent
But Boston’s ingrained racism dictated where we went
A little more mature, but not by much, we’ve outgrown our old neighborhoods
The Dogs now protect the working blacks, browns, whites, and the misunderstood
The news is bleak, rumors spread, at the pub from the Old Fitzgerald
Before they left our fair city, they shut down the Globe and Herald
The gas is nearly gone, the bus won’t run, and a nor’easter’s coming in
The working class is left to starve in triple-decker buildings
Our hopes are down to the puddingstone, at low-tide, in cod we trust
Laws replaced with street codes, where the Dogs serve out justice
With the Puritan laws gone and buried, we roam Dot Ave to Boylston,
Allston, Eastie, and cruising JP, mount up, and we’ll all Defend Boston.
Leave Boston to the Street Dogs.