Family Feuds Poem by Stan Petrovich

Family Feuds

Wilson, Wickford and Dunne
Were gunslingers and lawmen
With a remarkable thing in common:
They all had half-brothers they needed to kill.

They rode the Jornada del Muerto
In New Mexico, shooting rattlers
And drinking bad coffee,
And smoking black Mexican cigars,
And looking up at the shooting stars.

Hugh Wilson found Jeb in Santa Fe,
And shot him in the back of the head.
Nick Wickford crossed paths with Samuel
At some godforsaken trading post,
And blew out his heart.
Ryan Dunne caught Slocum Bickford watering his horse,
And shot him from a distance (of sorts) .

Now the three were wanted dead or alive,
And it seemed for a time that they thrived.
But squabbles perked up their rides,
One would complain to the other,
And all three would hide.
Then in El Paso it came to a head:
In a fury of dust they shot each other dead.

In an inquiry into the gang,
A newspaper man gathered evidence
As to why the gang went on the spree.
Each, he discovered, had had his ego punctured
By their dastardly half-brothers,
For simply having the same harlot of a mother.

Adeline Foster 08 August 2011

Was giggling all through it - sounds like a bad western - or - a western gone bad. Invite you to read mine - I Cannot Return - or, better yet, read - We the Unencumbered - Adeline

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Swarnendu Biswas 08 August 2011

ok, but what imagery it creates? , i only read some information here about a family feuds.

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