Pardon me buddy, i didn't mean to bug you
but I came from Vietnam
where I killed a lot of Vietnamese gentlemen
a few ladies too
and I couldn't stand the pain
and got a habit out of fear
I've gone through rehab and I'm clean
but I got no place to sleep
and I don't know what to do
with myself right now
I'm sorry buddy, I didn't mean to bug you
but it's cold in the alley
my heart's sick alone
and I'm clean, but my life's a mess
Third Avenue
and E. Houston Street
on the corner traffic island under a red light
Ginsberg emphasizes the hopelessness of the narrator in these lines, which echoes the thoughts of the archetypal, forgotten war veteran caught in a viscous cycle of drug addiction and rehabilitation. Heartsick and forlorn, his former life is in shambles, if not entirely non-existent.
Homeless compleynt