Samuel Hoffenstein’s speaker counts his three New York friends with a calm, almost offhand sadness. One is already dead, another is paralyzed by palsy and confined to bed, and the third, he is sure, will soon leave him too—not by choice, but because he will commit some crime and be sent to Sing Sing prison. The wording “for something he will do” makes the future loss feel grimly inevitable, as if the speaker cannot imagine a different outcome. The poem’s short, plain lines and repeated “and” give it the rhythm of quiet resignation. There is little drama or grief on the surface, but underneath is a lonely, fatalistic humor: the speaker seems to expect everyone close to him to vanish or fail. The mood is bleak but oddly dry, a shrug that barely covers pain.
I Had Three Friends in Gotham — Summary
I had three friends in Gotham, And one of them is dead. And one of them has palsy And cannot leave his bed.
And now I know the other Will soon desert me too, And end his days in Sing Sing, For something he will do.