9274. BUSTING IN THE WONDERGARD

BUSTING IN THE 

WONDERGARD

I knew her everlasting, before the

glass-key broke. Like Cinderella

with that slipper, or whatever that

story is. A shady raft of characters

those creepy sisters were.

-

At first it starts out easy, and no

one knows a thing. For boys, anyway.

Then it becomes pretty obvious what's

going on. A Satanic reminder each

morning. Oh well, what's one to do?

I always wanted to say, 'Oh well,

what's one two three?' Useless.

-

Tough life, this is. Most guys, as

thugs and hoodlums, just never get

it right. I guess the ones that do, like

Al Capone or Bugs Moran, they

become, instantly, legendary tales.

All their own and holding it too.

-

Then the gun-moll, or the creepy

girl climbs, on the running board.

'My Bonnie to your Clyde, OK?'

'Well, yeah then, but I hope you're

here for more than the ride.' Then,

to the crested butte that is their

end, they ride off madly, again 

and again, for all eternity.