~my Coke Bottle Glasses~ Poem by E Nigma

A breeze blows through the trees
Revealing the 33 thieves
In need of 4 steeds
You see these 33 were originally 29

But picked up 2 more an 2 guides
For the posse with no time
To devise a real heist
Leaving some behind

They call me earl 4 eyes
For I took 24 lives
Widowing 22 wives
Over the course Of 9 lives an 6 times

Between my 6 shooter Norma jean
With a recoil of a rattler
All coiled up
Ready to strike At anytime

This feelings quite sublime
I got 3 sharp shooters
A bottle of whiskey
And a couple of limes

With 2 men undercover on the inside
Waiting for a reflective shine
From a pocket mirror I use
To signal for these times

We move over to the east side
Where we each climb rocks for a better position
With the sun in their eyes
Beaming down on our backsides

Well it's time
For the firefight
Of their short lived lives
Then you hear it...

From a distance, the leader cries
We surrender, enough of my men have died
By my count only 13 survived
We round them up fill the cells

Had a drink and paid our bills
Staggered home where my Marilyn
Removed Ol Norma from my hip
Before she showed me a good time