Th' Night 'Fore Last: My "Christmas" Poem.

I wrote this some time last year, and just now remembered it. I'd like to see what everyone thinks!

 

Th' night b'fore last there were narry a sound.

No critter was peepin', not even a hound.

I don’t reckon much 'bout the daylight before...

Was drinkin' cheap whiskey an' courtin' cheap whores.


I'd left the saloon-- well, the 'keep threw me out.
My tab was too costly to pay then, no doubt.

He grasp't on my belt (I held on to my hat),

I sailed out'th door, then I landed face-flat.


When out on the street, I heard such a ruckus,

Rolled outta my ditch to see what was the fuss was.

'Round back to the Pawnshop, I stumbled, quite drunk,

An' fell in a horse-trough which made a ker-plunk!


(My pant'loons were down round my ankles, you see,

I musta passed out while I's tryin' to pee.)

When, what in the sky should I happen to scope;

A flying Con'stoga 'hind eight'a great Jack'lopes!


T'was piloted by a right dirty old hick,

White scruff for a beard, that was tangled with sticks.

He scratched at his crotch an'ee spit out his dip,

Called'th Jack'lopes by name with a flick of his whip.

 

Git, Stinky! Git, Alpo! Git, Bachus 'n Whopper!

Git, Melvin! Git Stoopid! Git Gimpy, 'n Chopper!

If ya don't git right quick, I'll cut off your paws!

Now gitalong, gitalong, gitalong! Yawww!


But try as he might, they just weren't in the mood.

Guess they'd had 'bout 'nuffa that crotchety dude.

Got offa his stagecoach an' kicked at the dust.

He hooted'n hollered'n pouted'n cussed.


An' then, on the roof 'peared another old coot

With grizzly black beard an'iz clothes dark with soot.

I looked to the top; he was turning around,

Saw'th first creaky codger 'n bellowed quite loud:


"Ah, Nick'las I've found you, you sneaky gray fart!

I'll gun you right down an' I'll cut out your heart!
For decades I've searched for you, through hill 'n dale,

An' now all your running is to no avail!"


"Black Pete!" counter'd Nick'las, with fire in his eyes,

"I see I can't hide from you, e'en in the skies!

It's plain, seems to me, we must fight to the death!

'Haps me'n my Jack'lopes'll finally rest."

"You cur!" Black Pete said, ch'root held tight in his jaw,

'N smoke blustered forth like hot hell from his maw.

"Y'stole 'way my shop, made my wife call me en'my!
Y'framed me for murder! There's no one would d'fend me!"

As Nick'las climbed up to the roof with his foe,
He wheezed when he laughed like a haggardly crow.
"D'lusional fool! Now, is that how you 'memb'rit?"
This time at the chase musta shredded your wits!

"It don't matter now!" Black Pete said with a grin.
"One of us here'll sure pay for their sins!"
An' laying their hands 'pon the steel of their guns,
It happened so fast that it gave me a stun:

Black Pete fell down heavy, he made quite a thud.
An' 'thout a look back, as the roof filled with blood,
Nick said in a tone 'bout
full filled me with dread,
"Good night to us all, for Black Pete is now dead."

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