It's a poem that still has resonance on the far Northside of Chicago where I live. The sight of groups of young men cutting school and thumbing their nose at authority is not uncommon here, and in other parts of the city. Unfortunately, the sense that they don't have much of a future in this society is also still pretty prevalent. It's certainly a failing that we as a city and a country need to do a better job addressing.
Here's the poem:
We Real Cool
THE POOL PLAYERS.We real cool. We
SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL.
Left school. We
Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We
Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We
Jazz June. We
Die soon.
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