Ask Not Poem by John F. McCullagh

It’s fortunate the rain had ceased early this warm November day.
I glance at my watch: 12: 27; “Lancer” and “Lace” are on their way.
I see Lee in his sniper’s perch. I still wonder if he’ll get this done.
I stand on the grassy knoll. Beneath my jacket, I touch my gun.
We must not fail; the King must die. I am the insurance it will be done.
A shot is fired from up above. “Lancer” grabs his throat and chest
and Camelot becomes undone.

The second bullet finds its mark And “Lace” is spattered with brains and blood.
The crowd is gripped with sudden fear. Here and there they start to run
Some woman screams “They’ve murdered him”.
I secretly smile for we have won.
I make my way to the phone booth there inside the Dallas Barbecue.
I call Ruby at his club. “Jack, I have one more job for you.”