A Eulogy To Bonnie Parker (Bonnie & Clyde)
A Eulogy To Bonnie Parker
In the little country town of Rowena
A sleepy mostly Czech-German place
Runnels County, Texas State
October the First of Nineteen-Ten
Bonnie Parker her first breaths did pace
Bonnie grew, lively and wild
Oh was she such a precocious child
''He's A Devil In His Own Home Town''
Sang the cute little Baptist Sunday-School girl
They'd sure not assigned her that one to sing and twirl
When Bonnie was but only four
A sorrowful call was sent
Saying her father Charlie
Had died at work
In a new years eve accident
Thus Emma was widowed
With no way to provide
So she packed up the kids
And moved in with her parents
West Dallas country side
There on Frank and Mary Krause's little farm
Fish Trap Road
Route-Six, Box One-Seven-Nine
That's where the Parker's now would be
Emma soon a local job did nail
Paying the socially mandated
Low women's pay scale
Struggling for her children and herself to provide
There was little left over to set aside
Lucky she was, parents to have
Who let them stay with them
Without her parents to help
It would have been tough
For a woman alone it was unjustly rough
Fast pal's Bonnie did make
With a cousin she found there
And all through their childhood
Bonnie and Dutchie were acting
Singing and ''raising hair''
They ''skinned the cat'' on barn rafters high
Serenaded the dusk with warbling ''operatic airs''
Burned down their wigwam cooking ''Hot'' potatoes
Discovered Grandpa's green wine stash in the hay
Bonnie ''drunk as a skunk'' almost passed away
Bonnie said to those annoyed
''Oh please just let me be
When you see my name in lights
You'll be sorry
You talked like that to me''
Saturday was family fishing day
Down on the Trinity
Where Bonnie, Billie and Hubert
Would try to catch fish for tea
Bonnie hated it, said ''it's so boring, see''
Sunday was Church and Sunday-School day
There Emma her children took
For them to learn ''The Book''
So they'd grow up good Citizens too
And to socialize as best she knew
Among the neighbor-hood folks
Gossip spread from house to house
That Emma Parker was also a Krause
So they ''pigeon-holed'' the Parker's
As being also ''German'' like the Krause's
Because of that big ''European War''
Germans were popular not
Woodrow Wilson said to suspect them
So people gave them the ''cold shoulder'' a lot
And little Bonnie felt ''out-casted'' somewhat
Even though with pride she knew
That a German had in Dallas
The Adolphus hotel built
And beside it the Kirby building too
Where Emma's attorney Edward Meek had his bureau
And so, it was there in West Dallas
Where Victor Prosper Considerant
Had Charles Fourier's socialist principles spoke
And with many notable artisans
The pioneer community of La Reunion invoked
'Twas around these remnants of La Reunion
Amongst this proud remainder of French
Belgian and Swiss Huguenots
Scattered with Coloreds lots
That Bonnie Parker to the World became woke
At their local Cement City school
Built for the children
Of the nearby company town
Bonnie and Dutchie cut a wide swathe
In school activities and runnin' around
''Fellers'' at school, cute Bonnie had a lot
Vying who the better gift for her got
Always had she a book satchel full
Of chocolates- candy- gum and such
To be her friend they wanted so much
Bonnie was an honor student
The junior Dallas County ''Spelling Bee'' champ
That bright little Parker girl
Oh was she such an adorable
Cotton haired ''Vamp''
Local, elected officials
Often pretty Bonnie did they task
To make opening speeches
For their local election campaigns
To make voting for them a more enticing ask
So sympathetic and tender hearted was she
Even sometimes refusing to take her prizes
For her recitations at school, that she'd awarded be
She wanted her friends to have them instead
She liked to see them happy too, she said
While those fool enough to from her steal
Or double cross her some kind
With fists and feet on them she pounced
Razor in hand, like a cat on a mouse
Them she often fairly trounced
Then when school's end
Finally loomed nigh
Handsome classmate Roy said Hi
Well, he started hanging around
And Bonnie decided to ''lock him down''
On a neighbor's farm she picked beans
To earn the money for her dress
She came up a little short
So the farmer fronted her the shortfall
To buy that dress of her dreams
So married they got, Bonnie just short of sixteen
And life was ''bliss'' for a short little while it seems
Hormones fueling these two young teens
''I'll Stay'', Bonnie her poetic wedding vow wrote
Her husband Roy she'd now proudly tote
Just like the ramblin' roses
Round the porch in summer do
Tho all the world forget you
That's the way I'll cling to you
Just like the sturdy ivy
On a castle's crumbling stone
I'll cling to you and love you
And you'll never be alone
Just like the stars in Heaven
Cling around the Moon at nite
I'll stay with you forever
Whether you are wrong or right
Just like the perfume lingers
On a rose until it dies
I'll stay with you and guide you
With the love light in my eyes
Just like an old song longing
On an exile's lonely breast
I'll stay with you & gladly help
To build a humble nest
Just like the ramblin' roses
Round the porch in summer do
Tho skies are grey my sweetheart
I'll always stay with you
END OF I'LL STAY
But Roy soon tired of his cute little bride
He also found she was barren inside
So spreading his wings he started travelin' wide
Often missing from Bonnie's side
Reciting the poem ''When! ! '', her time she'd bide
A lonely wife on a door step sat
Saw her husband passing by
She asked him if he'd soon be back
And this was his reply
''When women stop ''talkin' ''
And babies stop ''cryin' ''
When mules stop ''balkin' ''
And men stop ''lyin' ''
When bees make bread
And flies make honey
When ''misers'' go ''broke''
And ''hoboes'' save ''money''
When white is black
And the wind is still
Then I'll come back
Like hell I will''
END OF WHEN
Bonnie was lonesome and awfully blue
Pining for the Husband
She had thought was true
Not knowing what to do
Reciting ''Life's Trials'' to get the day through
I learn as the years roll onward
And leave the past behind
That much I have counted sorrow
But proves our God is kind
That many a smile I longed for
Had a hidden thorn of pain
And many a rugged pathway
Led to fields of ripening grain
The clouds must cover the sunshine
But cannot banish the Sun
And the Earth shines all the brighter
When the weary rain is done
We must stand the deepest sorrow
To see the clearest light
And often from wrongs own darkness
Comes the very strength of right
We must live through the weary winter
If we would value the spring
And the woods must be cold and silent
Before the robin sings
The flowers must be buried in darkness
Before they can bud and bloom
The sweetest and warmest sunshine
Comes after the storm and gloom
So the heart from the hardest trials
Gaines the purest joy of all
And from lips that have tasted sadness
The sweetest songs will fall
For as peace comes after suffering
And love is reward for pain
So after Earth comes Heaven
And out of our loss is gain
END OF LIFE'S TRIALS
With her wedding ring
Her tattoo of two hearts pierced by an arrow
With ''Bonnie'' in left and ''Roy'' in right, inked within
And that piece of paper
That said she was married to him
For she had been an obedient
School and family gal
Building for an ideal station in life
Now all seemed lost
Bonnie felt in strife
Her ''woman's glory''
Spent on a ''no good cur''
She'd ''had her day''
Now her Husband
Had gone away from her
Gone to break every commandment
With the world still lending him a hand
While she, who had loved but unwisely
Was now an outcast all over the land
''People Will Talk'', resonated poetically grand
PEOPLE WILL TALK
If you listen to all
That is said as you go
You may get through the world
But 'twill be pretty slow
You'll be worried and fretted
And kept in a ''stew''
For ''meddlesome tongues''
Must have something to do
''And people WILL talk''
If quiet and modest
You'll have it presumed
That your humble position
Is only assumed
You're a ''wolf in sheep's clothing''
Or else you're a ''fool''
But don't get excited
Keep perfectly cool
''For people WILL talk''
And then if you show
The least boldness of heart
Or a slight ''inclination''
To take your own part
They'll call you an ''upstart''
''Conceited and vain''
But keep right ahead
Don't stop to explain
''For people WILL talk''
If threadbare your dress
And old fashioned your hat
Someone will surely
Take notice to that
And hint rather strong
That you can't pay your way
But don't get excited
Whatever they say
''For people WILL talk''
If your dress is in fashion
Don't think you'll escape
For they criticize then
If it's a different shape
Your ahead of your ''means''
Or your tailor you don't pay
But mind your own business
Don't mind what they say
''For people WILL talk''
Now the best way to do
Is to do as you please
For your mind if you have one
Will then be at ease
Of course you will meet
With all sorts of abuse
But don't think to stop it
It is of NO use
AND OF PEOPLE WILL TALK
She often prayed to God, when feeling blue
But all her tears and pleadings
Brought no answer down from Him
Or guided her as to what to do
Writing ''Bravery'', her love for Roy, still true
No one must know that I'm lonely
Or care that you've gone away
And I must smile while I answer
You will be back some day
No one must know how I tremble
When I hear a siren moan
Just fearing for you darling
And hoping you're safe at home
Sometimes in my wildest fancy
I dream you're coming back
Tho I know it is never possible
I'll always be waiting Jack
I must be singing always
Smiling as others do
Tho I'm weighted down with sadness
And my heart cries out for you
When I say my prayers at evening
This is the thing I ask
God, make me braver tomorrow
Paint me a brighter mask
END OF BRAVERY
So she came into Dallas City
With her hair ''down her back in a curl''
And soon got a job in the ''chorus'' on Main Street
At the Macedonian Greek owned Marco's Cafe
Treated like ''Helen Of Troy'', in it's mad dizzy world
Sheriff Hal Hood for his doughnut
A Judge wanting a cigar
Coffee- sugar- milk- pepper- salt- ketchup
What would you like Sir? Here you are!
Ringing it up on the till, nickels- dimes- quarters- cents
All the while in the corner sat
Western Union messenger boy Ted
Dreaming wet dreams of that cute waitress girl
Trying to figure out
How he could get her in bed
Hobo's played her for a ''mark''
Claimed to be penniless and starved
She'd loved the poem ''The Hobo's Last Ride''
So on her own dime she often fed them free
Her paycheck, thus, often halved
THE HOBO'S LAST RIDE
In the Dodge City yards of the Santa Fe
Stood a ''freight'' made up for the East
The Engineer with his coal and oil
Was grooming his iron beast
While ten cars back in the murky dust
A box car door swung wide
And a hobo lifted his ''pal'' inside
To start on his last long ride
A lantern swung and the freight pulled out
The Engine gathered speed
The Engineer pulled the throttle wide
And clucked to his iron steed
While ten cars back in an empty box
The hobo rolled a ''pill''
And the flaring match showed his partners face
Stark white and deathly still
The train wheels clicked on the coupling joints
The song for the ''ramblers'' ears
And the hobo talked to the still white ''form''
His ''pal'' for many a year
For a mighty long time we've rambled Jack
With the luck of men that roam
With the back door steps for a dining room
And the box car for a home
We dodged the ''Bulls'' on the eastern route
And the Laws on the Chesapeake
We travelled the Leadville Narrow Gauge
In the days of Cripple Creek
We drifted down through sunny Cal
On the rails of the old S.P.
Of all you had through good and bad
A half always belonged to me
You made me promise Jack
If I lived and you ''cashed in''
To take you back to the old grave yard
And bury you there with your kin
You seemed to know I would keep my word
For you said that I was ''wise''
Well I'm keeping my promise to you ''pal''
Cause I'm taking you home to night
I hadn't the money to send you there
So I'm taking you back on the ''fly''
It's the decent way for a ''Bo'' to go
Home to the by and by
I knew that fever had you Jack
And that doctor just wouldn't come
He was too busy treating the wealthy folks
To doctor a worn out ''bum''
As the train rolled over it's ribbon of steel
Straight through to the East it sped
The Engineer in his high cab seat
Kept his eyes on the rails ahead
While ten cars back in the empty box
The lonely hobo sighed
For the days of old and his ''pal'' so cold
Who was taking his last long ride
END OF THE HOBO'S LAST RIDE
Bonnie was one hell of a ''spark''
Only four-foot-eleven and but ninety pound
But a thousand of dynamite
Sweet, jolly and fun
Spreading love all around
Knowingly barren, to mislead a man she'd not be proud
She'd never again marry, that she vowed
To hopeful suitors her reply was thus cast
''Thank you and God bless you for asking
But I'll stick it out now till the last''
Often she'd borrow a car
And go driving near and far
But Bonnie was no naive ''date''
With her she always carried
Her Smith and Wesson Model-Ten Two-Inch Thirty-Eight
She played ''Hard'' and ''Fast'' as 'Bonnie Jean'
With her cute looks and good form
She had a new man every evening
Her kisses were thrilling and warm
Her purse never empty, but her heart was forlorn
Bonnie's ''street girl'' pals were a ''colorful'' elite
''Of all the ''parades of fashion''
Not a ''Paris'' shop could compete''
Prowling the ''Elm Street drag'', Akard and Lamar
She penned the gist of it in ''The Prostitutes Convention''
THE PROSTITUTES CONVENTION
You have heard of big ''conventions''
And there's some you can't forget
But get this straight, there's none so great
As when the ''prostitutes'' met
To a ''joint'' on ''Harwood St'' last year
They came from far and near
From ''behind the barns'' in ''stolen cars''
The damn ''broads'' gathered here
Three hundred came from North Dallas
Some came from Akard Street
Of all the ''Parades of Fashion''
Not a ''Paris'' shop could compete
From the ''Ivy Hotel'' came ''Billie''
And ''Bess the Katyclid''
With ''maniac Mag'' from the ''Elm St drag''
Came the ''San Jacinto Kid''
''Bashful Bill'' and ''Hain-lip Lil''
Blew in with ''Hell Fine Jack''
''Wanda Jane'' from the ''Pearl St Gang''
''Estelle'' from the ''Live Oak Track''
I saw some ''hides'' I'd never met
A ''frail'' called ''West End Rose''
With ''Pearl and Pauline'' from the ''Josephine''
Came a gal dubbed ''Mopin Mose''
''Big Imogene'' dressed like a ''queen''
Made friends with ''Baby Red''
While ''North Side Nell'' ''lit up'' like hell
Drank ''jack'' with ''East Side Ed''
While ''Lonesome Lou'' and ''Subway Sue''
Along with ''Mamphid Min''
And ''Martha Lin''
''Shook up'' some damn good ''gin''
END OF THE PROSTITUTES CONVENTION
There Bonnie fell for the ''line'' of a ''slim devotee of hop''
''And soon her dreams, in the juice of a poppy
Had got her before she could stop''
There ''just to lie in his arms was delight''
'Till he abandoned her in a ''hop joint'' one night
In that ''hop joint'' for her hop she labored a little while
''The Girl With The Blue Velvet Band'' reciting in her head
Until the Police came and ''crimped her style''
Forlornly Bonnie penned ''The Street Girl''
Poetically telling the story of her life, erstwhile
THE GIRL WITH THE BLUE VELVET BAND
In the city of wealth, beauty and fashion
Dear old Frisco, where I first saw the light
And the many frolics that I had there
Are still in my memory to night
One evening while out for a ramble
Here or there without thought or design
I chanced on a girl tall and slender
On the corner of Kearney and Pine
On her face was the first flush of nature
Her bright eyes seemed to expand
While her hair fell in rich brilliant manner
Was entwined with a ''blue velvet band''
After lunch to a well kept apartment
She invited me with a sweet smile
And she seemed so refined, gay and charming
I thought I would linger awhile
Then she shared with me a collection
Of wines of an excellent brand
And conversed in politest language
This girl with the ''blue velvet band''
Her ladies taste was resplendent
From the graceful arrangement of things
From the pictures that stood on the bureau
To a little bronze Cupid with wings
But what struck me most was an Object
Designed by an ''Artistic Hand''
Was the costly ''lay out'' of a ''Hop Fiend''
And that ''Fiend'' was my ''Blue Velvet Band''
'Tis months since that ''craven arm'' grasped me
In bliss did my life glide away
From ''opium'' to ''dipping'' and ''thieving''
She ''artfully'' led me by day
One evening coming home wet and dreary
With the ''swag'' from a ''jewelry store''
I heard the soft voice of my loved one
As I gently opened the door
If you'll give me a clue to convict him
Said a stranger in accents so ''bland''
You'll then prove to me that you love me
It's a go, said my ''Blue Velvet Band''
Oh how my heart filled with anger
At a woman, so ''fair'', ''false'' and ''vile''
And to think I once had adored her
Brought my lips a contemptuous smile
Our ''ill gotten'' gains she had squandered
And my life was hers to command
But deserted and betrayed for another!
Could this be my ''Blue Velvet Band''?
I challenged this stranger I found there
The draw on him I got first hand
He identified himself as a Deputy
My gun on him I held with firm hand
The Law, not liking the ''glitter''
Of the ''forty-five'' Colt in my hand
He hurriedly left through the window
Leaving me with my ''Blue Velvet Band''
What happened to me I will tell you
I was ''ditched'' for a ''desperate'' crime
There was ''hell'' in a bank about midnight
And my pal was shot down in his ''prime''
Just a few minutes before I was ''hunted''
By the Laws who had wounded me too
My temper was none of the ''sweetest''
As I swung myself into their view
As a convict of ''hard'' reputation
Ten years of this ''grind'' I did land
And I often thought of the pleasures
I had with my ''Blue Velvet Band''
Many months have passed since this happened
And this story belongs to the past
I forgave her, but just retribution
Claimed this fair but false one at last
She slowly sank lower and lower
Down through life's ''shifting sands''
'Till finally she died in a ''Hop Joint''
This girl with the ''blue velvet band''
If she had been true when I met her
A bright future for us was in store
For I was an able ''mechanic''
And ''honest'' and ''square'' to the core
But as ''sages'' of old have contended
What's ''decreed'' we mortals must stand
So a ''grave'' in the ''Potter's Field'', ended
My ''romance'' with the ''Blue Velvet Band''
END OF THE GIRL WITH THE BLUE VELVET BAND
THE STREET GIRL
You don't want to marry me, Honey
Though just to hear you ask me is sweet
If you did you'd regret it tomorrow
For I'm only a girl of the street
Time was when I'd gladly have listened
Before I was tainted with shame
But it wouldn't be fair to you, Honey
Men laugh when they mention my name
Back there on the farm in Nebraska
I might have said, ''yes'' to you then
But I thought that the world was a playground
Just teeming with Santa Claus men
So I left the old home for the city
To play in it's mad dizzy whirl
Never knowing how little of pity
It holds for a slip of a girl
You think I'm still good-looking, Honey?
But no, I am faded and spent
Even Helen of Troy would look seedy
If she followed the pace that I went
But that day I came in from the country
With my hair down my back in a curl
Through the length and breadth of the city
There was never a prettier girl
I soon got a job in the chorus
With nothing but looks and a form
I had a new man every evening
And my kisses were thrilling and warm
I might have sold them for a fortune
To some old Sugar Daddy with dough
But youth calls to youth for it's lover-
There was plenty that I didn't know
Then I fell for the ''line'' of a ''junker''
A slim devotee of hop
And those dreams in the juice of a poppy
Had got me before I could stop
But I didn't care while he loved me
Just to lie in his arms was delight
But his ardor grew cold and he left me
In a Chinatown ''hop Joint'' one nite
Well I didn't care then what happened
A Chinese man took me under his wing
And down in a hovel of Hell-
I labored for hop and Ah-Sing
Oh, no, I'm no longer a ''Junker''
The Police came and got me one day
And I took the one cure that is certain
That island out there in the bay
Don't spring that old gag of reforming
A girl hardly ever comes back
Too many are eager and waiting
To guide her feet off of the track
A man can break every commandment
And the world still will lend him a hand
Yet, a girl that has loved, but un-wisely
Is an outcast all over the land
You see how it is, don't you Honey?
I'd marry you now if I could
I'd go with you back to the country
But I know it won't do any good
For I'm only a poor branded woman
And I can't get away from the past
Good-by, and God bless you for asking
But I'll stick it out now till the last
END OF THE STREET GIRL
Bonnie would often fantasize
Of life inside the underworld's guise
Of being some ''big shot'' gangster's ''moll''
In the glamour and dare of that lifestyle
Imagining herself, in her poem ''The Fate Of Tiger Rose''
THE FATE OF TIGER ROSE
Yeah, she looks old and bent
And her years are spent
Walking the ''prison yards''
But once she was fair
With golden hair
Tho her eyes were some what hard
Once she smiled
Like a carefree child
And, back of the wreck that is her
Is the old old story
Of a woman's glory
And love for a ''no good cur''
''Two Timer McColl''
Came West with his ''moll''
And his ''moll'' was ''Tiger Rose''
A woman of shame
Who played a hard game
Up stairs over ''Smokey Joe's''
For she was the ''bait''
That laid in wait
With money to blow
On the ''Farris Wheel''
Run by ''Jack Pot O'Neal''
One night ''Jack Pot O'Neal''
At the ''Farris Wheel''
Made a grab for a hidden ''gat''
''McColl'' also let go
And ''Pat'' sagged low
As the ''sub'' went ''rat-tat-tat''
Well, to cut a long story short
Tiger Rose took all the blame in Court
For she was the ''moll''
Of ''Two Timer McColl''
And she lost
At a ''crooked game''
END OF THE FATE OF TIGER ROSE
Although 'separated' from Roy, was Bonnie
Roy was running around in a little ''burglary ring''
Together with Bonnie's sister Billie's husband Fred
With Fred's brother Bud joining too, 'twas a ''family thing''
A former Dallas County Sheriff's son, also in their ''crew''
Well, they all got caught
Fred, Bud and Roy were convicted and went to jail
While the former Sheriff's son was let off scot-free
His daddy had his contacts, see
Bonnie, oh so outraged was she
Then came ''The Crash''
And Marco's closed down
They let Bonnie ''go''
But there were now few jobs left
To be found in the town
Then Bonnie's brother Hubert's wife Edith
Had a friend who'd just broke her arm
So Bonnie hurried on over to help
There was surely no harm
In perking her up with her charm
While Bonnie was there
Edith took the chance
To hook Bonnie up with a ''possible romance''
So she arranged with her brother Clarence
To call over his friend Clyde Barrow
Like two kindred spirits
Each with the other was certainly charmed
Bonnie could not know then
How this dashing, handsome young boy
Was going to get her harmed
Clyde milled around constantly
Showing Bonnie what a ''daddy'' he could be
Then the Law, knocked on the door
With them they took Clyde away
Down to the Dallas City Jail
For Clyde had quite a ''backstory''
He hadn't yet to Bonnie read
She was so distraught
She was almost dead
This perceived ''injustice'' to Clyde went to her head
She visited him often
In his City Jail cell
Just across from old Marco's Cafe
All the Laws there knew
The cute little waitress well
Round Clyde was sent to Denton and Waco
'Till finally in Waco a charge stuck
And he confessed
Two to fourteen years in the ''Pen''
Who could have guessed?
Now Bonnie was no ''Sissy Sob''
The tough ''school yard brawler'' was up for the ''job''
A gun 'tween her breasts
Into Waco's McLennan County Jail she smuggled to him
With that she had committed her first big ''sin''
That night Clyde broke out and by morning he was far
But the Laws soon caught him in Middletown Ohio
Back to Waco's Jail he was brought
Where the Judge re-assigned him the full
Fourteen years in the ''Pen'', on parr
Down in Huntsville ''Pen'' Clyde howled
That abuse of prisoners should not be allowed
That when his sentence was finally past
Clyde vowed that this jail stint
Would be his last
Back home Bonnie's heart was breaking for him
There was nothing to do but wait for him
Her Majestic Radiola playing Jimmie Rodgers records
Making her ever more melancholy and blue
Gene Austin on the radio was no substitute she knew
Bonnie busied herself writing letters to Clyde
Saying she'd be waiting-waiting-waiting for him
She wrote him she wanted him
To be a man not a thug
For all she wanted was Clyde to hug
''Honey, they only think you are mean
But I know you are not
And I will be the very one to show you
How ''swell'' this ''outside'' world is
When you get out we'll both be happy and clean''
''Sugar, promise me you wont go away
When you get out I want you to stay
Honey, if you should leave me
I wouldn't know what to do
Oh please let me go along with you''
''You know I'm very interested
And I've already had my day
And we're both going to be good now
For I've already found out
That life is not worth living without you''
''I am coming to the jail tomorrow
Even if they don't let me see you
You'll know I came and tried
Be real sweet Honey and while you're inside
Think of the girl who loves you best, waiting outside''
Round Bonnie went to meet Clyde's parents
There too she met Blanche, wife of Clyde's brother Buck
And fast pal's made with Clyde's little sister Marie
Sneakily they played with makeup behind the back of Cumie
Clyde's little brother L.C. tried fun and friendly to also be
Twenty-one months later
Limped Clyde, into Bonnie's door
Bonnie jumped up when him she saw
And threw her arms around him
With that, Hell had just opened it's door
For Clyde didn't stay ''good''
After he got out of that ''Pen''
So Bonnie made up her mind
That she'd go ''bad'' instead
After all, what did she really have to lose?
Feeling that since, through no fault of her own
She'd been branded a ''woman of shame''
And abandoned all alone, she reckoned that
''Prostitutes'' ''Gangster Gals'' and ''Molls''
Was all she had left in the ''game''
So from that moment on Bonnie ''ran'' with Clyde
In Kemp Calaboose she spent a night inside
Plus a two month stint in Kaufman County Jail
Writing a collection of her ten favorite poems
Into a F-N-B of Burkburnett bank book, with pride
The Story Of Suicide Sal
The Prostitutes Convention
The Fate Of Tiger Rose
The Hobo's Last Ride
The Girl With The Blue Velvet Band
People Will Talk
Just as Anney had once sailed with Calico Jack
So Bonnie hoped to ride with Clyde
If Clyde would let her ride along with his gang
What ever it took, she promised herself
She would never leave her ''Daddy's'' side
For Clyde was her ''Jack'' and she was his ''Moll''
The tough gangster gal ''Suicide Sal''
This adventure she sought, to her life complete
For this blissful short time following her heart
Happy to trade all her future for this short part
THE STORY OF SUICIDE SAL
We each of us have a good ''alibi''
For being down here in the ''joint''
But few of them really are justified
If you get right down to the point
You've heard of a woman's glory
Being spent on a ''downright cur''
Still you can't always judge the story
As true, being told by her
As long as I've stayed on this ''island''
And heard ''confidence tales'' from each ''gal''
Only one seemed interesting and truthful-
The story of ''Suicide Sal''
Now ''Sal'' was a gal of rare beauty
Though her features were coarse and tough
She never once faltered from duty
To play on the ''up and up''
''Sal'' told me this tale on the evening
Before she was turned out ''free''
And I'll do my best to relate it
Just as she told it to me
I was born on a ranch in Wyoming
Not treated like Helen of Troy
I was taught that ''rods were rulers''
And ''ranked'' as a greasy cowboy
Then I left my old home for the city
To play in it's mad dizzy whirl
Not knowing how little of pity
It holds for a country girl
There I fell for ''the line'' of a ''henchman''
A ''professional killer'' from ''Chi''
I couldn't help loving him madly
For him even I would die
One year we were desperately happy
Our ''ill gotten gains'' we spent free
I was taught the ways of the ''underworld''
Jack was just like a ''God'' to me
I got on the ''F-B-A'' payroll
To get the ''inside lay'' of the ''job''
The bank was ''turning big money''!
It looked like a ''cinch for the mob''
Eighty grand without even a ''rumble''
Jack was last with the ''loot'' in the door
When the ''teller'' dead-aimed a revolver
From where they forced him to lie on the floor
I knew I had only a moment-
He would surely get Jack as he ran
So I ''staged'' a ''big fade out'' beside him
And knocked the forty-five out of his hand
They ''rapped me down big'' at the station
And informed me that I'd get the blame
For the ''dramatic stunt'' pulled on the ''teller''
Looked to them, too much like a ''game''
The ''police'' called it a ''frame up''
Said it was an ''inside job''
But I steadily denied any knowledge
Or dealings with ''underworld mobs''
The ''gang'' hired a couple of lawyers
The best ''fixers'' in any mans town
But it takes more than lawyers and money
When Uncle Sam starts ''shaking you down''
I was charged as a ''scion of gangland''
And tried for my wages of sin
The ''dirty dozen'' found me guilty-
From five to fifty years in the pen
I took the ''rap'' like good people
And never one ''squawk'' did I make
Jack ''dropped himself'' on the promise
That we make a ''sensational break''
Well, to shorten a sad lengthy story
Five years have gone over my head
Without even so much as a letter-
At first I thought he was dead
But not long ago I discovered
From a gal in the joint named Lyle
That Jack and his ''moll'' had ''got over''
And were living in true ''gangster style''
If he had returned to me sometime
Though he hadn't a cent to give
I'd forget all the hell that he's caused me
And love him as long as I lived
But there's no chance of his ever coming
For he and his moll have no fears
But that I will die in this prison
Or ''flatten'' this fifty years
Tomorrow I'll be on the ''outside''
And I'll ''drop myself'' on it today
I'll ''bump 'em'', if they give me the ''hot squat''
On this island out here in the bay...
The iron doors swung wide next morning
For a gruesome woman of waste
Who at last had a chance to ''fix it''
Murder showed in her cynical face
Not long ago I read in the paper
That a gal on the East Side got ''hot''
And when the smoke finally retreated
Two of gangdom were found ''on the spot''
It related the colorful story
Of a ''jilted gangster gal''
Two days later, a ''sub-gun'' ended
The story of ''Suicide Sal''
END OF THE STORY OF SUICIDE SAL
Over the highways and byways
Bouncing along over the gravel and dirt
Of numerous, desolate, back country roads
Over hills, past deserts, prairies
Cornfields and meadows they rode
As that endless road slid under
The spinning wheels of their racing machine
Songs on the radio uplifting the scene
On and on Bonnie and Clyde would ride and ride
Always at the ready, machine guns at their side
Bonnie, smoking, navigating with her road maps
So that ''blind'' they would not have to ride
Ammunition clips, at the ready, to pass to Clyde
Constantly praying to travel further down each road
And safely pass through each town, to the other side
Some times they'd ride for days
'Till they could find the ''right place''
Bonnie would always help Clyde
When he was casing a ''job''
But dodgy jobs they often let slide
Still, often had they bags of cash
Bonnie, giddy at such ''greenback stash''
Raymond, a good partner but not really a friend
Billie and L-C providing covert assistance to the gang
On errands Clyde would them sometimes send
All the boys who joined them ''on the road''
Were each some-what maladjusted and ''dim''
Killing often on their minds and fast off their tongues
Bonnie was often intervening at the top of her lungs
To calm them down and save peoples ''hinds''
Weary and tired never a break they got
Perhaps they sometimes thought they were not
But soon enough a sub-gun's rat-tat-tat
Would remind them that they were still ''Hot''
Always ''running'', just to not be ''put on the spot''
All through this ''road trip'' of Hell
Bonnie, petite, was always dressed so well
Even occasionally sneaking a visit to Clyde's sister Nell
For a permanent, at her 'Beauty Shoppe' salon
In the 'Texas Ranger' headquarters of the 'Sanger Hotel'
Done up ''to the nines''
High heels, 'Blue Waltz' perfume
Eyebrows plucked thin
Eyelashes brushed with 'Maybelleene'
Nails filed to a point, polished and clean
Hair in a permanent set, combed, pinned and capped
A long-skirt paired with a figure hugging top
Stockings, no knickers, so she could make a quick ''pit-stop''
Without wasting time or being seen
And ride long hours cramped in that machine
A dainty little watch on her left hand
On her left ring finger, Roy's wedding band
There too was Clyde's diamond ring
For Bonnie was Mrs. Roy Thornton
And Clyde Barrow's ''Queen''
A brooch with three acorns
And a little cross Bonnie wore
Commending her soul to Heaven
Hoping she might still
Sneak in the back door
While a cigarette, sandwich, Coke and magazine
This side of Heaven kept her lean and mean
Reading 'True Detective' she could be seen
Snapping photographs with a 'Brownie'
Moments to record in a picture she was keen
A Colt Thirty-Eight Detective Special
Taped up in her crotch
Another pistol in her purse
And still another folded
Into a clothing swatch
Oh yes, and also her Twenty-Gauge
Remington Model-Eleven Five-Shot Semi-Auto
Cut down ''whip-it'' shot-gun
Just when you thought
It couldn't get worse
Bonnie had made up her mind to ride and ride
By Clyde's side, 'til one or both of them died
THIS was the exhilarating adventure of her life
When this ended, she anyway wished to die
For she'd already done all she'd wanted, why wait?
''This road was so dimly lighted
There was no highway signs to guide
But they made up their minds
If the roads were all ''blind''
They wouldn't give up till they died''
Clyde often cleaned and oiled their guns
With Bonnie squatting right by his side
Holding and passing, helping and guarding
For they were the tools of their trade
And the difference between life and death they made
Sleeping in the woods, hidden in the brush
Bonnie, wrapped in her Indian-blanket
Often talked silently to the stars in the sky
Thinking up poetry just to while the time by
''The Outlaws'' she thus composed, with a sigh
Billy rode on a pinto horse
''Billy The Kid'' I mean
And he met Clyde Barrow riding
In a ''little grey machine''
Billy drew his bridle rein
And Barrow stopped his car
And the dead man talked to the living man
Under the ''Morning Star''
Billy said to the Barrow boy
Is this the way you ride
In a car that does it's ''ninety per''
Machine guns at each side?
I only had my pinto horse
And my six-gun tried and true
I could shoot but they got me
And some day they will get you!
For the men who live like you and me
Are playing a losing game
And the way we shoot, or the way we ride
Is all about the same
And the like of us may never hope
For death to set us free
For the living are always after you
And the dead are after me
Then out of the East arose the sound
Of hoof-beats with the dawn
And Billy pulled his rein and said
I must be moving on
And out of the West came the glare of a light
And the drone of a ''motor's song''
And Barrow set his foot on the gas
And shouted back ''So long''
So into the East Clyde Barrow rode
And Billy into the West
The living man who can know no peace
And the dead who can know no rest
END OF THE OUTLAWS
With the silence of the night
Magnifying everything to terrifying proportions
A sudden crack, suspicious sound or sight
Would send Clyde scrambling for his guns
And Bonnie running for the car
To start the motor and have it running
Ready for Clyde to steal up and jump inside
Slide under the wheel, set his foot on the gas
And race off into the lonely night
Bonnie, at the ready, to shoot any danger in sight
Often times they'd just park at the side of a road
Leave the engine idling when very cold
But while Clyde slept, Bonnie always at the wheel sat
Ready to race off at the slightest hint of danger
To buy time, for Clyde to get ready with his ''gat''
Parking up some resident's driveway at night
With a local number plate on their car
Patrolling Laws thought everything looked ''right''
No strange suspicious cars in sight
They ''beat it'' before the dawn got too bright
Some times they'd risk it
And lay up at some Tourist Court
The luxury of a bed and a bath
With fresh linen and towels they sought
For a dollar a day an average cabin could be bought
They'd stay in all day making the most of their lay
Resting their weariness away
But while Clyde was asleep hard
Bonnie would lie wide awake
Often at the curtains, nervously scanning the yard
And they'd be gone in a flash
At all hours of the day and night
They'd suddenly up and dash
Their trail lost before their departure came to light
Driving like hell with socks on his feet
Clyde could ''feel'' the car and the road so neat
No need to change gear for a sharp bend
Clyde left the Laws in the dust
Over and over and over again
The Laws had ''pea-shooters''
And old motor cars
Bonnie and Clyde had Ford V-Eights
Automatic Forty-Five Pistols
And National Guard B-A-R's
Some days up in the Ozarks they'd be
Others would see them down San Angelo
Or hiding out in Grand Prairie
Often hanging out in that outlaw nexus
Of Oklahoma and Missouri
Riding through New Mexico- Kansas
Nebraska- Iowa- Arkansas- Louisiana
Nosing out further they'd sometimes be
Wyoming- Minnesota- Wisconsin- Michigan
Ohio- Indiana- Illinois- Tennessee and Mississippi
Robbing and stealing their way all over the country
Never knowing themselves where next they'd be
On their epic road trip through such diverse scenery
But always looping back round again to Texas
Always Texas, their folks again to see
Driving through snow and sleet and howling wind
Rain- thunder storms- mud- freezing cold- dreary fog
Stifling heat- clouds of dust- humid days- wet with sweat
But many a day was sunlit- warm and fine
And many a night was moonlit- still and devine
Early morning would often see Bonnie
Sitting on the running board washing her face
Down some strange town's shopping street they'd pace
Sometimes they'd steal into a picture show
Or to some fine restaurant they'd go
Averaging three hundred miles a day
At sixteen miles to the gallon
With a sixteen gallon tank
On the run, they could not run low
So two to three times a day, to a filling station they'd go
Over many a filling station bell hose they'd ding
To the Bowser Boy in bow tie they'd sing
''Fill her up please''
Yes Sir! Check your oil- water and tire pressure too?
''Sure, and clean the windows, thank you''
That's ten gallons at sixteen cents
Appreciate if you have a buck- two quarters and a dime Sir
''Yeah? Look Buddy! You just hand over your money pouch
Real calm, don't try anything funny or we'll drill you
That's it Buddy, thank you''
Late each night they'd top her up
So through the night they could ride
For small town filling stations mostly closed
In those wee small hours
And a full tank they had to have, ready for flight
Stealing Ford Deluxe V-Eights, preferentially
With that smooth powerful flathead engine
And safety glass windows installed already
Always trying a key left in the ignition to see
Always amazed how often the case that would be
Stealing license plates along their way
Their ''tourist keepsakes''
From all the states they'd visit
With plenty more in store
Where those came from. You don't say!
Burgle places, they'd sometimes do
Unguarded 'National Guard' armories
For B-A-R's automatic pistols and ammunition too
The odd jeweler and tailor here and there
A taste for expensive clothes they had, who knew?
Sticking up grocery stores, they'd often be
First casing them out with ''stalling money''
Cheese- crackers- bread and baloney
Eggs- franks- cigarettes and fizzy
''Pack up all that money in the till too, promptly! ''
Bank ''jobs'' were a tricky thing
With Tellers often armed with guns
They'd always wonder if gunshots would ring
So bank jobs they'd carefully pace
And away from them fast they'd race
Some times ''bit jobs'' for other outlaws they ''worked''
Though they were widely held in low regard
Their outlaw peers considering them ''cheap crooks''
And their ''capers'' somewhat funny
Just ''kids'' earning ''pocket money''
Independent of all other outlaws
Needing no ones help to stay on the run
Isolated ''lone stars'', acquaintances but hardly a friend
Never trusting anyone, weary of every encounter
None could ''jump'' them without facing their guns
The Laws ''jumped'' them at Joplin, Missouri
Bonnie and Clyde, Blanche, Buck and W.D.
Shooting, they got away, leaving all behind
A trove of ''treasure'' did the Laws find
Their photographs, from now, in everyone's mind
The press had a ''field day'' with Bonnie
Their reader's imagination running wild
Imagining Bonnie having ''threesomes''
With her gangster pals in the car
Drinking strong corn whisky, smoking a strong cigar
''Living in sin'', how could she possibly be mild?
That tough ''cigar smoking'' moll Bonnie
And that ''Texas Rattlesnake'' gangster Clyde
With scandalizing write-up's, them they did troll
Spotting a newspaper, they'd ''geddit'' while on the roll
Blanche was so mad at Clyde
For getting Buck back ''on the run'' again
She considered shooting him
But thought her draw on Clyde would be too slow
And knew that Bonnie would then have shot her anyway
One night out Wellington Texas way
At the Salt Fork of the Red River
Clyde wrecked the car and burned Bonnie's leg
It was so bad he feared she'd soon be dead
But there was no stopping there they said
From there in a hurry they had to flee
The pain was so bad but Bonnie was tough
She told Clyde she didn't care if she died
That she only wanted to live
If he was still by her side
At Fort Smith, Arkansas, Clyde finally stopped
There a sick-bed for Bonnie at a Tourist Court he made
Where a doctor and nurse he paid
And fetched Billie to help, should Bonnie breathe her last
For Bonnie would not allow Blanche or Buck, by her bed past
Clyde nursed her back but she limped a lot
Buckled at the knees she hobbled around
But she was still a gangster gal
The best navigator, re-loader and ''watch'' keeper
No one was taking her down
At the Red Crown Tavern, filling station and tourist lodge
In Platte City, Missouri, they stopped to rest
And chose two cabins they thought were best
But in the second night the Laws moved in
Hailing gunfire the ''Barrow Gang'' escaped again
In Dexfield Park, Iowa, all hell broke loose
While cooking breakfast and tending their wounds
A posse of a hundred came after their ''goose''
Bonnie, Clyde and W.D. made it out alive
Blanche and Buck were captured and Buck soon died
Across the river a farmer had a car but no gasoline
But he said it can run awhile on kerosene
That engine sure wasn't running too ''clean''
But at least Bonnie, Clyde and W.D. now had a ''ride''
And they got away from Dexfield, out the other side
But W.D had had ''enough'' and wanted to go ''clean''
He'd finally realized that Clyde was stubborn in thought
That staying was suicide, so to get away he sought
So he gave them ''the slip'' in another machine
And with them he was never again seen
Along the Eagle Ford Road
They'd drive past Clyde's parent's 'Star Service Station'
Throw a bottle out under the shed
With a note telling their folks when and where to head
To meet-up and spend some family-time
Out on the Preston Road or Mockingbird Lane
At Grapevine or Irving
Or where ever ''the kids'' would name
Their folks turned up every time
To see them was such an elusive game
Bonnie, ever the school-play queen
Would doll Clyde up with a wig and Maybelleene
Like a mighty pretty girl she made him seem
Smiling and waving Laws were totally ''took''
If only they knew who was hiding behind that ''look''
Bonnie loved children an awful lot
Sometimes she'd see some country kid
Outside a filling station or grocery store, feeling hot
So she'd buy them an orange crush or soda
Just like people to her as a little kid did
For Christmas she'd got her nephew Buddy a trike
Snuck up to the porch, left it and locked eyes with the tyke
Then she'd smiled to Buddy, waved and fled
They tried to convince Buddy it was Santa Claus who'd been
But Buddy insisted it was Bonnie he'd seen
Bonnie and Clyde arranged to buy a pony
For Bonnie's little nephew Buddy's surprise
On the morning, Bonnie told Clyde not to bother after all
For during the night Buddy came to her in her dream
And told her that he had died
Meeting their folks at Sowers one time
A ''rat'' had dropped the Law a line
Hidden for ambush Smoot Schmid thought ''there mine''
That was the closest yet Bonnie and Clyde came to dying
To the north-east corner of Oklahoma they raced away fine
Vaseline- salve- hydrogen peroxide- whisky and aspirin
Bandages- gauze- medical tape and Bonnie's hairpin
To soothe burns, clean and help bullet wounds heal
A sewing needle and thread, scissors and such
Their version of a first aid kit insomuch
In jail W.D. started ''chirping'' away
He had lots he wanted to say
He liked Bonnie but had kinda had enough of Clyde
That's why he'd decided to leave before he died
And didn't want to get the ''Hot-Squat'' ''inside''
He gave up a lot of the ''inside lay''
Information the Laws wanted in every way
To help them get Bonnie and Clyde some day
And implicated them in a whole heap of sin
Hoping to save his own skin
But try as they may the problem was
That Bonnie and Clyde had a ''rolling arsenal of guns''
And a ''sack-full'' of ''tricks'' and ''puns''
A moving target that would never for long in one place stay
The Laws were having real trouble trying to find a way
On a foggy morning out Eastham Prison Farm
Bonnie and Clyde sprang Raymond
And some other prisoners that day
And rode away just fine, but they wasted their time
As the crooks all soon left them, going their own way
But not before Raymond's gal Mary
Had suggested to Bonnie that she poison Clyde
Steal his money and live grand on the loot
But Bonnie was loyal and true to Clyde
If it wasn't for Bonnie, Clyde would have died
Raymond even moved with his gun
To shoot fellow crook Joe in the back as he slept
Clyde, ever alert, on him just in time leapt
Raymond and Mary soon left as they'd crossed the line
Joe eventually also left in time
Only one crook stayed, Henry was his name
Bonnie and Clyde had thought he was game
But Henry had soon been keen to be on his way
But Clyde had threatened him and forced him to stay
Clyde should've just let him go away
Fearful, Henry got cold feet
And started trying on the sly
To work out how to say bye
He told his fears to his father Ivy with a sigh
And Old Man Ivy started plotting to send them ''high''
Bonnie and Clyde took fun in their stride
They even sometimes took Laws for a ride
Two Laws to a tree they once tied
One Law helped carry a battery back for Clyde
Another ''mad as a wet hen'' didn't realize he could've died
But one old Law they took for an extra long ride
He camped with them country side
He said he really enjoyed them
He said they were just two young kids running free
He said ''they were very good to me''
Clyde brought along his guitar and saxophone
To make him feel more at home
You'd think they were just some musicians
Playing and singing by the light of a star
Unless their guns first hinted as to who they really are
Often at some small town laundry they'd stop
Leaving their clothes for pick-up on their return-hop
In streams they bathed, trying their best to be clean
At Tourist Courts for a warm wash they'd stop when keen
Then flee out under the stars where they'd not be ''seen''
Banks they definitely would prefer to rob
But with too few associates it was a tough job
The Laws kept ''pruning'' Clyde's little gang
Clyde was often left with only one good man
Bonnie could only ''case the place'' ''lookout'' and ''wait''
All this meant it was often too dangerous to Clyde
To target a bank and go inside
For he could not risk getting caught
So filling stations and grocery stores they often thought
Were safer pickings when money was short
A tackle box to catch some fish
A pan to cook whatever they found
But they couldn't spend too much time messing around
The longer they stayed the greater the risk of being found
So a sack of tinned food they always kept around
They had a heart to heart talk where they agreed
That if Clyde was injured and could not run or hide
If capture became imminent
Which to Clyde meant the ''Hot-Squat'' ''inside''
Then Bonnie was to help him suicide
After that she was free to do as she pleased
Capture meant prison for a long time at least
Bonnie knew her ''run'' ended when Clyde died
''The Prisoner'' she wrote in poetic contemplation
Haunting of the life she would spend ''inside''
Dull the prison walls were gleaming
In the moonbeams golden glow
On that lonely July evening
Near a couple of years ago
And behind the steel barred windows
Stood a prisoner just a girl
With her fearless blue eyes weeping
Haunting for the outside world
All along the moonlit spaces
Stealthy shadows softly crept
Till at length exhausted prisoners
Closed their weary eyes and slept
Came a hand laid on her shoulder
And her buddy ill at ease
Lest her friend be too despondent
So she then began to tease
''Come my pal and sit beside me
Tell me what is on your mind
You have shared with me your pleasures
Now your sorrow should be mine''
Said the sad one for an answer
Dear my time is almost done
Now I leave you on the 'morrow
By the setting of the sun
Fair you are my little partner
What a pal you've always been
And upon my sad departure
You will take my ownings then
Send my letters back to mother
They are tokens of her love
Tell her dear to please don't worry
I will wait for her above
Tell her that I love her dearly
Make a promise now to me
That you'll go and live with mother
Make her happy when you're free
Here's a picture of my darling
I shall trust unto your keep
He was killed when I was captured
Now he rests in peaceful sleep
All those years I stayed beside him
For my love for him was true
And I was tried unjustly
For a crime I didn't do
All this time I've been in prison
Days & nites have been so blue
Till I have begun to wonder
If the tales of God are true
When the skies are grey above me
And the earth is cold & grim
And when all my tears and pleadings
Brings no answer down from him
Dawned the next relentless morning
And the sun's unpitying eye
Looked upon the haggard prisoner
Looked to see her slowly die
All day long the mournful whispers
Came from prisoners clad in grey
Mournful whispers for the deed
And whose pardon came that day
Dull the prison walls are gleaming
In the moonbeams golden light
Shadows on another convict
At the cold steel bars tonight
Many be the innocent victims
And their sorrows are not few
Who have sacrificed their freedom
For a crime they didn't do
END OF THE PRISONER
For Bonnie only wanted by Clyde's side to be
''Running'' she'd decided was not really her ''cup of tea''
She hated the loneliness, dirt and drudgery
But there was now no other way it could be
If they wanted to stay together and stay free
''Some times I wish
I could go back to my old life
But soon I'm happy again
Just being together with Clyde
I really just wouldn't have it any other way''
Their life on the run was a tough act to follow
Stuck in it, with no way out
Not knowing what the next hour will bring
Or if they'd live to see tomorrow
Watching ''normal'' folks, filled them with a tinge of sorrow
So many felonies had they ''chalked up''
On their stealing and robbing spree
They knew they were sure ''gonna geddit''
When they finally got caught
Then ''freedom'' again they knew they'd never see
So there was nothing else to do now
But just to keep on driving and driving
Their ''car of freedom'', now their ''mobile calaboose''
Just waiting for the end of their ride to come
Whatever that end may be
One thing about Bonnie was very true
That she saved the lives of more than a few
She was a moderating influence
On all those angry young men
Regardless, she stood to spend life in the ''Pen''
After the Eastham Prison Farm breakout
The Laws started tracking
Bonnie and Clyde like ''prey''
Trying to figure out a way to ''get them''
Without anyone else getting hurt or in the way
A price they placed on Clyde's head
Some made no secret they would prefer him dead
Even suggesting doubling the reward if he was killed
And cutting it in half if he was taken alive
A violent show down was inevitable they said
They figured Clyde was skirting state lines
Using the ''state line rules'' to get away
Changing his number plate signs
All making them more elusive prey
But the Laws vowed to get them some-day
Outraged, investigating ever current reports
With numerous sightings of Bonnie and Clyde
Reportedly seen simultaneously, all over the place
But those two ''Will-O'-The-Wisp'' bandits
Could they nowhere trace
It was one epic big ''game''
Of ''hide and seek'' and ''catch me if you can''
Laws scratching their heads over their maps
Wondering how they'd ''vanished''
When they'd blocked every road with their traps
The Laws figured out from careful study
And inside information from their ex-buddy
That Bonnie and Clyde valued family time
By tapping phones and spying
They built an information ''mine''
Still, they just couldn't catch them in time
But meanwhile Old Man Ivy
Had established a ''line''
With Sheriff Henderson Jerdan
Through a ''pal'' he knew fine
Elusive, bristling with firearms
With which they were now experts
And masters of almost every type of crime
Artists of almost every type of escape
Their legend grew and grew with the passing time
Now recognized as the most dangerous criminals
In the Middle and South West and possibly the Nation
Always prepared with deadly force
To meet every confrontation
Bonnie, now mentioned in the same breath as Belle Starr
Raymond, who'd split away from Clyde
After challenging Bonnie's right to share in the ''takings''
Was a ''boastful punk'' who didn't know how to hide
Wanted to act ''Big Shot'' but was too ''yellow'' to fight
He was soon captured and back ''inside''
For Raymond, a four page letter dictated Clyde
In her beautiful neat cursive did Bonnie this letter write
Her hand so calm you would never think
That this letter was written by a girl on the brink
Expecting at any moment to be ''jumped'' and die
But Bonnie was no ordinary ''moll''
Never subservient, but ''equal'' to Clyde
Fighting in gun battles right by his side
To his leadership she always voluntarily deferred
And Clyde took care of Bonnie as she preferred
Though her advice to others, matter of fact, she gave
Voice, with not a hint of self pity
Lest they saw her glamour and passion
As something they too may like to do
Without knowing the ramifications too
''Never go crook
It's for the love of a man
That I'm gonna have to die
I don't know when
But I know it can't be long''
Late one evening in Gibsland, Bienville Parish, Louisiana
In front of Rosa Canfield's ''American Cafe''
Parked Clyde, came inside, sat and ate supper
While Bonnie remained in the car curb-side
Clyde soon finished and back to the car he went
Then Bonnie walked in all by herself
With difficulty, having a hobbled gait
Sat down alone and hurriedly ate
Paid, then her way back to the car she made
And off into the night their car did fade
Seven in the morning
After a long nervous night
Back at Rosa's cafe
Bonnie and Clyde sat at a table
Trying to do breakfast right
Lest they not feel too desperate
Bonnie talked Clyde into going together inside
Doughnuts and coffee they ordered and sat
To share together a moment of normal life
With a knife, fork, napkin and table mat
But Rosa could see
That they were nervous and distraught
Clyde silent with head hung
Morosely gazing at his plate in thought
While Bonnie politely smiled
And asked Rosa for some small service
Thanking her kindly and flashing
Her adorable, cute, heart warming smile
That had once won over so many patrons
Back at Marco's Cafe, back awhile
Bonnie must have reminisced
Back on that ''once upon a time''
As she sat there alone
With a silent, morose Clyde
At Rosa's that day, passing the time
Next morning, after a night out Simsboro
For sandwiches they again swung by
And Clyde alone went into Rosa's
While Bonnie sat in the car
Watching the world go by
Then they started off down
That dusty dirt road
For it was already nine
And they had to meet Ivy on time
To try once more to find Henry
Riding along side by side
There was little 'tween them to be said
Bonnie reading a magazine with round rimmed glasses
Shotgun at her feet, Camel cigarettes and pistol on her lap
Biting into her sandwich, crumbing over her map
Dressed was Clyde in suit pants and jacket
A blue dress shirt with beige hat on his head
An art deco 'Bulova' dress watch and a diamond stick pin
With octagon framed sunglasses atop his nose
A B-A-R 'tween his knees and pistol in belt tucked in
Clyde had his foot hard on the gas
With a high pitched whine
Like a sewing machine their motor raced
Powering their brand new Deluxe Fordor
Nineteen Thirty Four, Cordoba Grey, Ford V-Eight
After this they'd said to stop by in Shreveport
To pick up their laundry
On their way back to Dallas
For an evening with their folks
That very same day
Alas, they were sure cutting it fine
As their ''little grey machine'' nosed over the hill
Racing down a dip
And slowing up a rise
But they were on-time
That fateful day, nosing over the hill
They came racing into sight
Riding right up
To a ''broken down truck''
With one wheel on the ground
Beside which stood Old Man Ivy
That ''stool pigeon'' ''spotter'' and ''rat''
Who last night had told Sheriff Jordan
He'd be meeting them on this road
On the 'morrow, morning, 'tween nine and ten
''Have you seen Henry? ''
He called to them as they stopped
To the six Laws hiding in the brush
THIS was the definite ''spot''
Alcorn was especially mad
Two rifle shots Oakley fired
And Clyde was dead ''on the spot''
Bonnie screamed in horror
Then the Law's ''let the bitch have it''
With volleys of fire from all of their ''rods''
In the noise and smoke
Of that deafening din
Gault called out ''careful Cap''
''They might be possumin'''
But Bonnie and Clyde had just got their ''wages of sin''
Ted shot a roadside movie
Of his one-time ''wet dream''
As she lay up against Clyde
Her dead eyes looking out at him
While the other Laws rifled through the ''tin''
Then in the company of a ''convoy''
Of some two-hundred cars
Of ''gawkers'' ''ghouls'' and ''sim'''
They were towed into Arcadia
For coroner Dr Wade and the rest of the ''admin''
Rushed there an undertaker from nearby Ruston
And fulfilled his promise to Bonnie and Clyde
He'd once by them been ''taken for a ride''
And Bonnie had jokingly had him promise
To embalm her when she died
Of a nude Bonnie the photographer took ''boobie shots''
''Why let it go to waste? ''
The local newspapers ''plastered them''
On their very front page next day
Such was their ''dollar sign'' haste
Even Sheriff Smoot Schmid
Flew over by plane from Dallas Love Field
Accompanied by his chief deputy Bill Decker too
Such a high level V-I-P delegation
Bonnie and Clyde would be tickled pink if they'd knew
The Governor of Louisiana
Weighed in with congratulations
To Sheriff Henderson Jordan he gave his salutations
As did J. Edgar Hoover himself on high
For Bonnie and Clyde had really put the F in his B.I.
That night a father and a brother
Left the ''Circus Maximus'' behind
Taking with them, one a son
The other his ''little sis''
Back to Dallas for burial ''in kind''
There, for Bonnie and Clyde
Life insurance was paid
Their deaths held as ''accident''
The full policy payout
To their parents was made
Oh, it was a ''Roman Holliday''
Complete with ice-cream and hot-dog stands
As ''tens of thousands''
Filed past their caskets
Heads bowed and hats in hand
To pay their respects
Or just ''drop in'' for a ''look''
At two colorful outlaws
How could they resist?
For Bonnie and Clyde were such a ''hook''!
At sundown on Friday
Clyde was laid to rest
Beside his brother Buck
There he was stuck
''Gone But Not Forgotten''
Even a plane flew over
Dropping flowers for him
The underworlds best
For he was their ''kin''
But with all of his sin he did not win
Dawned the next morning
Still, there Bonnie lay
Dressed in an ice blue negligee
In her hands, a small bouquet of lilies
That was expressly to her sent
By an anonymous person
With the special request
That she be buried with them
Clasped in her hands
Held to her breast
To the strains of ''Beautiful Isle Of Somewhere''
In the early Saturday afternoon
From McKamy-Campbell Funeral Home
Close by the Dallas Fair Park
They took Bonnie on her last ride
To Fish Trap Cemetery
Where Emanuel Santerre his burial permission had gave
So that in this ''Old French Cemetery''
Of his fellow La Reunion pioneers
There Bonnie the outlaw could have her grave
Along with her immigrant German grandfather Frank
Her soldier uncle Samuel, Company-F 359 th Infantry- 90 th division.
And her niece and nephew Mitzy and Buddy
With the Krause farm, Bonnie's childhood home, just nigh
There the trees could with the wind mournfully sigh
No more running and hiding
And crying for her Mama
Or worrying she'd get the ''rap''
''It's all over now, THANK GOD''
Sighed her heartbroken mother as she wept
And recalled their meeting last
Just twenty short days past
There Bonnie had sat
So young, so lovely
Only twenty three
With the May moonlight
Sifting through her yellow hair
Making shadows on her cheeks
As she talked calmly of death
Like a topic not worth of despair
''Now, mama, don't get upset
Why shouldn't we talk it over?
You know it, I know it
The whole of Texas knows it''
No armistice would be afforded
To Bonnie and Clyde
They'd be forced to fight till they died
Like soldiers forced to fight
To the death, on the losing side
Bonnie had looked up with a funny smile
As if she were much much older
And wise beyond the years of mortals
As if she had in her mind
Already transcended death for awhile
For adventure had Bonnie joined Clyde
Loving the kindred spirit that in him she saw
With passion she'd fought Clyde's desperate ''war''
Always loyal and right there by his side
Together, for just a little while longer always hoping to ride
Into Emma's hand Bonnie had pressed
A few pages torn from a 1933 diary
On which she'd written out a little poem
That she'd named ''The Trail's End''
About their life on the run and their expected end
THE TRAIL'S END
You've read the story of ''Jesse James''
Of how he lived and died
If you're still in need
Of some thing to read
Here's the story of ''Bonnie and Clyde''
Now Bonnie and Clyde are the ''Barrow Gang''
I'm sure you all have read
How they rob and steal
And how those who ''squeal''
Are usually found dying or dead
There's lots of untruth to their ''write ups''
They're not so merciless as that
Their nature is raw
They hate all the ''laws''
The ''stool pidgeons'' ''spotters'' and ''rats''
They class them as cold blooded Killers
They say they are ''heartless'' and ''mean''
But I say this with pride
That I once knew Clyde
When he was honest, upright and clean
But the law fooled around
Kept taking him down
And ''locking him up'' in a ''cell''
Till he said to me I'll never be free
So I'll meet a few of 'em in ''Hell''
This road was so dimly lighted
There was no highway signs to guide
But they made up their minds
If the roads were all ''blind''
They wouldn't give up till they died
The road gets dimmer and dimmer
Some times you can hardly see
Still it's fight man to man
And do all you can
For they know they can never be free
If they try to act like a citizen
And rent them a nice little flat
About the third nite
They're invited to fight
By a ''sub gun's'' ''rat-tat-tat''
If a policeman is killed in Dallas
And they have no clues for a guide
If they can't find the ''fiend''
They just wipe the slate clean
And ''hang it on'' Bonnie and Clyde
Two crimes been done in America
Not accredited to the ''Barrow mob''
For they had no hand
In the Urschel kidnap demand
Or the Kansas City Depot ''job''
A newsboy once said to his Buddy
I wish old Clyde would get ''jumped''
In this awful hard times
We might make a few dimes
If 5 or 6 laws would get ''bumped''
The police haven't got the report yet
Clyde sent a wireless today
Saying we have a peace flag of white
We stretch out at night
We have joined the ''N-R-A''
They don't think they're too tough or too desperate
They know that the law always wins
They've been shot often before
But they do not ignore
That ''death are the wages of Sin''
From heart break some people have suffered
From weariness some people have died
But take it all in all
Our troubles are small
Till we get like Bonnie and Clyde
Some day they'll ''go down'' together
And they'll bury them Side by Side
To few it means grief
To the law it's relief
But it's death to Bonnie and Clyde
END OF THE TRAIL'S END
Bonnie's just written a poem
The Story of Bonnie and Clyde
So I will try my hand at Poetry
With her riding by my side
As we travel down the highway
Never knowing where it will End
Never very much money
And not even a friend
As we travel through the city
Looking for something to Rob
Bonnie will always help me
When I am casing a Job
Sometimes we travel for days
Before we can find the right place
And then we would always wonder
If there would be any shooting in the place
We don't want to hurt anyone
But we have to steal to eat
And if it's a shoot out to live
Then that's the way it will have to be
We have never shot at anyone
That wasn't after us
And to kill someone that is after you
You are lucky if you don't get it first
We have kidnapped some people
And tied them to a tree
But not so tight that after we were gone
They could not get themself free
We are going home tomorrow
To look in on the folks
We will meet them out near Grapevine
If the Laws don't get there first
Now days that's all we live for
Just one more visit home
For we know that someday they'll get us
And then it will be solong
We will drive by the Station tomorrow
Throw a bottle out under the shed
To meet us out near Irving
If they don't start scattering some lead
We pray every town that we pass through
To forgive sinners like Bonnie and Clyde
And please God just let us make it
Through this town to the other side
Some day we will go home forever
And they will Bury us side by side
The grief that we brought to our families
Will pass as the years go by
Now that's not as good as Bonnie's
So I guess I will call it a flop
But please God just one more visit
Before we are put on the spot
END OF CLYDE; S REPLY
Bonnie had lived her life ''raw''
With little regard for the consequences
Of breaking rules or the law
She'd lived her life much like a carefree child
Until she got ''run down'' while ''runnin' wild''
''I just wouldn't pay any attention to mama if I were you
No, I'd just go right ahead and do as I pleased
I wouldn't mind mama at all
You just go right ahead
And see where you land''
To her memory Emma wrote her daughter Bonnie
The book ''Fugitives'', together with Clyde's sister Nell
And on her grave the most beautiful epitaph
The kind only a mother can write
For a beautiful daughter she once had
''Az the flowers are all made sweeter
By the sunshine and the dew
So this old world
Is made brighter
By the lives of folks like you''
THE END OF A EULOGY TO BONNIE PARKER