Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
Comments about Gordon Somebody
I sat there smoking cigarettes
My memory active with varied vignettes
Of sordid acts and lurid crimes
And how I miss those treasured times
Where right was right, and wrong was wrong
And evil men did not belong
I felt alive to hunt them down
Turn a wicked smile to frown
To bear my wrath on their wicked head
With any luck, they'd soon be dead.
A forty-five, a length of rope
A bathroom towel, a bar of soap.
A length of chain, a baseball bat
Some cooking oil, a red-hot vat.
Gasoline and a cattle prod
A meth junkie... name of Claude