On An Execution Poem by Bill Grace

We executed in Texas once
A man whose life was hard
If remembered correctly his words
To the good Nun were hard
His last words were hard.

The young captain who he killed
Stealing his red sports car
Pleaded for his life
The captain coming to an undertanding
Of true value in our bourgeois strife
Pleaded for his life
But this man required life and car
Property was not enough
He was hard.

I like this institution - execution - very little
But in this one case I will confess
And only from a reading of the press
That I am glad the killer's gone
If prison walls should fail to contain
A hatred for us all that was so great
That even pleading for your life
Was not an adequate pennance
For the powers of a red sports car.