Howdy

On those evenings of chill ,
Seeking cheap thrill,
With lots of time to kill,
Out would come , Bill ,

Dressed as a dowdy ,
His eyes a-cloudy ,

A joint hanging askew
He would greet anew ,
All whom he didn’t
and those whom he knew,

he’d tip his hat moodily
and say cheerily
“Howdy?”

People would hastily

At the sight of him 

Lower their eyes, guiltily

and scamper past him 

For Bill had a reputation 

formidable as a rock 

he was indeed an abomination

Gangster and a crook 

People with vendetta

on their agenda 

would seek him out 

and use his clout 

The worthy, rich, people grand  

who whispered to him 

in alleyways, dark and grim ,

Sent him on dubious errand 

 From his shadow, would balk,

mere presence shady

as he stood in their sidewalk 

and called out to them-"howdy?"

To associate with him 

Was almost sin 

Hence important it seem(ed) 

To get rid of him 

So he disappeared ,

One night from his pad , 

And reappeared ,

decomposed,

 weeks later 

With weighted ankles ,

 in the river 

It rankles 

How there was nobody 

however shady 

to wish everybody 

A drunk and  brooding "Howdy?"