The Man Who Never Shuts The Door

We take the morning suburb train,

     And drop into our seat;

We look upon the paper boy

     With smile serene and sweet.

The car is warm and full of cheer,

     We read our daily o’er;

Then steps aboard the measly chump

     Who never shuts the door.

A dozen of us glare at him,

     The smoke brings cough and sneeze;

And someone needs must swing it to,

     Or sit and slowly freeze.

All know the dude is bad enough,

     The drummer but a bore,

But what a dog-goned skunk is he

     Who never shuts the door.

Nov. 4, ‘93

  Pub. in

Boston Courier