When Good Folks Get Mad... Poem by David Welch

Madeline Cole worked over the basin,
washing clothes for her, and her man,
in the wilds of Kansas, eighteen seventy-eight,
where grass, between horizons, did span.

A pretty young woman, a brand new wife,
she'd yet to fall heavy with child,
but she hoped and she prayed, whenever she could
that her dreams would wait only a short while.

When on the ridge three forms appeared,
mounted proud, riding tall on horseback.
Madeline had seen them before this day,
the whole county had felt their attacks.

The Anderlin brother, that was their name,
the scourge of this part of the west,
rustlers, thieves, killers, and back-shooters,
no lawman rode that they could not best.

They approached the house, leers on their faces,
the oldest a brigand names Joe.
Madeline grabbed her and rifle and went out the door,
no further would she let the filth go.

Joe he just smiled, and shook his head
saying ‘Darling, now you listen here!
I mean to have you, one way or the other,
play nice and there's no need to fear.'

‘But girl if you push me, I'll tell your plain
I'll put six bullets into that chest.
I think you'll agree, it would be a sin
to put six bloody holes in those breasts.'

But Madeline stood and refused to budge,
Joe's weathered face grew more ugly and cruel.
He said, 'You can't kill us all, not today.
Be smart here, don't be a damned fool.'

‘You'll like what we give you, I guarantee
you'll be moaning when you are under
the body of a real man, not some green husband
who likes to play at being a puncher.'

But Madeline just took aim, lined up her shot.
‘I don't need to kill all, just you Joe, '
she said as she aimed straight for his heart,
‘We both know how this will unfold.'

‘Charlie there doesn't breath without say-so,
and Walter can't hit a barn with his gun.
It's only you, Joe. You are the whole gang,
and with one shot it all is undone.'

Old Joe did seethed, and go for his pistol,
Madeline squeezed, and the rifle did bark.
Joe pitched backwards quickly, dead on his mount,
his rotten soul lost to the great dark.

Madeline she shifted, and shot Walter
the stunned fool fell from his horse.
And Charlie he turned, and galloped away,
so she winged him, as matter of course.

Charlie, he fell, and let out a moan,
his left arm broken, bloody, and raw.
Madeline stalked closer, stood over him
and placed the barrel up against his jaw.

‘You think that I'm weak, to live here in peace,
since I do not go plunder and steal,
but my husband fought rebels, and I shot you,
so listen up closely, cause this is the deal! '

‘I won't kill you now, even though I ought
to leave you here, broken and red,
and if your return, I won't kill you then
I'll just shoot off your other, little, head.'

‘So get up and walk, but don't you dare talk!
Go on now and make your escape.
And tell all those thugs that you call friends,
Madeline Cole in no one's to rape! '

So she took the horses, and Charlie ran off,
anything more from him would be futile.
And Charlie he learned, the old proverb was true:
When the good folk get mad, they get brutal.