John Carter Brown

James Crawford-King Junior - Poem by John Carter Brown

James Crawford-King junior esquire
The man with a price on his head,
Was a lone desperado from Texas
And was wanted, living or dead.

A runner of guns and a killer
A thief, and a gambler of note;
A mean looking dude in his leathers,
With a stetson tied under his throat.

Sherrif Cody had sworn he would find him
For the innocent lives that he took;
This Crawford-King junior esquire
Who had slung both his guns and his hook.

Away o'er the dry golden prairies
He'd gone, so the sheriff was told;
So he headed that way with his posse,
But the trail was now hopelessly cold.

As cold as the night that descended
On Cody, his horse and his men;
But justice called loudly for vengeance
So at daybreak they rode out again.

Now El -Paso was quietly sitting
In the warm morning glow of the sun;
Knowing nothing of Crawford-King junior
Or the terrible deeds he had done.

There the lone desperado lay sleeping
With his colt 45 by his side;
Back in Texas the wives of his victims
Were weeping for those who had died.

Sheriff Cody burst into the bedroom
Just as Jimmy was lifting his head;
And the lead from the lawman's revolver
Made sure that King junior was dead.

Then the blue acrid smoke slowly lifted
To find things not quite what they seem:
I'd dropped off the lousy top bunk-bed,
And James Crawford-King junior? ...a dream!

Written Feb 1996

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

I've never been a great fan of Westerns, so why I wrote a poem on this subject I don't really know. It turned out OK though, I think.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 21, 2012

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