Bonnie and Clyde

Listen my children
And you shall hear
Of a modern Lancelot
And Guinevere,

Two young Millennials
Named Bonnie and Clyde,
How they lived and loved
And so tragically... died.

Not the Bonnie and Clyde
Of Hollywood fame,
But two... by pure chance...
Who had the same name.

Two all-American kids
In their way
As apple pie, baseball,
And the NRA.

Now Clyde was from Dallas
And Bonnie, Fort Worth,
The two most romantic
Cities on Earth,

In Texas, the home of
The brave and the free,
Where they met at an
NRA gun jamboree.

They were both at a lecture
By Wayne LaPierre
Who was warning, “All free men
Had better beware

“When the government pinkos
Come after your gun,
The commie, Obama,
Jihadists have won,

“And if crazies kill kids
In their classrooms,” he said,
“More guns are the answer!
And don’t be misled

“When they try to control
Your Saturday-night-specials;
Next they’ll be after
Your deer hunting rifles.

“The only good answer
To a bad man with a gun...
As I’ve said many times...
Is a good man with one!”

But here Bonnie leapt up
With her fist in the air
And shouted, “Don’t be a
Chauvinist pig, LaPierre!”

And as the crowd stared,
From her shirt sleeve she drew
A Smith & Wesson, Lady-Smith,
Rimfire 22.

She waved it and shouted,
“Wayne, old buddy, old pal,
A good man’s hard to find!
How about a GOOD GAL?

“Too often I’ve been where
There is no good man, Sir.
Why isn’t a gal with a gun
A good answer?

“We are brave Texas gals;
We have strong constitutions,
And we love simple 2nd
Amendment solutions!”

Well, that Dallas crowd cheered
For well over a minute,
Till even Wayne unducked his head
And joined in it.

Clyde sat there so smitten,
Love-struck, and bewitched
That his heart’s love antenna
Just stood up and twitched.

So, via MyFace and Twitter
And Google and such,
Clyde located Bonnie
And asked her to lunch.

Now, reader, if love stories
Make your heart leap
And bring tears to your eyes,
Get ready to weep!

For at that lunch meeting,
O guess what they found!
Clyde was “Open-Carry”
And Bonnie, “Stand-Your-Ground.”

And when “Stand-Your-Ground” lassies
Meet a true “Open-Carry,”
O reader, it’s writ in the stars:
They must marry!

For Love is a glory,
And there’s none so resplendent
As a true-love begot
By our second amendment.

Clyde said, “If you like guns, Bonnie,
I own eight or nine.”
“Show me yours,” answered Bonnie,
“And I’ll show you mine.”

Well, for Clyde there was nothing
Quite so romantic
As Bonnie’s Beretta, Nano,
Semi-automatic.

And when Bonnie saw Clyde’s
Glock, Single-Stack 42
And his Magnum Double-Eagle,
Well, what could she do?

Her heart swooned, and true-love
Began to dissolve her
When she touched Clyde’s Rossi
Double-Action Revolver.

And “Open-Carry” Clyde
Was overcome with desire
When she pulled out her
Buckmark Repeater Rimfire.

So... long story short...
They were married that June,
Bought a house near a gun range in Dallas,
And soon,

Bonnie was pregnant,
And in time the gods blessed her
With fine baby boy. And they named him
Winchester.

For nine years they were happy,
But... as you may guess...
Whom the gods would destroy,
They first send success.

It was one day in May
And the weather was good,
And our heroes arose
As they normally would.

And as was his habit,
Our “Open-Carry” Clyde
Strapped a Galco, King Tut, leather
Holster to his side.

And being it was Thursday,
He didn’t hesitate;
Thursdays he always packed his
Blackhawk 38.

Bonnie chose her Beretta
With the quilted paisley grip
Which matched her green ensemble
And had a seven cartridge clip.

And down they went to breakfast
Feeling sharp and in control,
And Winchester was there already
Pouring corn flakes in a bowl.

Clyde opened up the Morning News,
Took a chair, and crossed his legs,
While Bonnie rattled pots and pans
And started cooking eggs.

Soon she served up scrambled eggs
And toast upon a plate.
“Eat up, Dear,” said Bonnie,
“We’re kind of running late.”

Clyde turned in his chair,
And set the Morning News aside.
“What’s this? Scrambled eggs?” he said.
“You know I wanted fried.”

“Oh, did I miss your order?
I’m very sorry, Hon.
Tomorrow maybe. But TODAY!
It’s scrambled eggs or NONE!”

Now this was getting silly,
For old “Open-Carry” Clyde
Really had no preference
Between scrambled eggs or fried.

But Clyde was a merry prankster
And thought it might be funny
If he took this chance to have
A little bit of fun with Bonnie.

Then imagine her reaction
When suddenly her Clyde,
Jumped up, pulled out his 38, and screamed
“I WANTED FRIED!”

She saw the grin upon his face.
It was a joke, and Bonnie knew it.
“He’s always doing jokes,” she thought;
“He’ll know how to undo it.”

So Bonnie played along, and
When Clyde chambered his first round,
She jumped up with her Beretta
And bravely “Stood her Ground.”

There they were in crouched positions
Both smiling at the fun
And staring down the muzzles
Of each other’s loaded gun.

And poor, nine-year-old Winchester
Sat there watching both
With a big spoonful of Frosted Flakes
Half way to his mouth.

Now, FREEZE FRAME this moment, reader!
We must interrupt the text
To make the best account we can
Of just what happened next.

We’re not quite sure how it went down,
But one interpretation
Was it may have been a case of
SINGLE-POINTED MEDITATION.

In SINGLE-POINTED MEDITATION,
At the instant... of danger, stress, or pain
There can be a kind of psychic
Time expansion in the brain.

That instant becomes a minute,
And that minute like an hour,
Plenty of time... or so it seems...
To take a silent tour

Through long forgotten moments
In your personal Life Story,
A slow-motion time, a perfect time,
To make an inventory

Of buried good and bad things
That happened in your Life,
Such incidents, perhaps, as pass
Between a husband and a wife.

These may be the happy moments
Or perhaps the really rotten,
But most are likely trivial
And probably best forgotten.

Hard to say what one remembers
When a brain is thus enthralled,
But here’s a strange example
Of a thing that Clyde recalled:

The rule that: ONE IS NOT ENOUGH,
AND THREE MAY BE TOO MANY
When Bonnie wouldn’t let him have
That second gin martini...

A small thing to most of us perhaps;
It was even small to Clyde,
Like getting his eggs scrambled
When he really wanted fried.

Or for Bonnie, when Clyde pinched her bottom,
In her Spandex, jogging tights:
Had he really called her “Chubbo”?...
And a hundred other slights.

These Life Revues may seem like
A leisure cruise vacation,
But recall it’s just a nano-second
SINGLE-POINTED MEDITATION.

For Bonnie, in a flash,
The fun turned into fear
When she saw Clyde’s merry prankster smile
Morph into a sneer.

And Clyde briefly wondered
If he may have made an error
When the joke on Bonnie’s pretty face
Began to look like terror.

O reader, we are creatures
Of fidgets, fits, and fussings,
Impulse, whim, and blunder,
Day dreams and airy nothings,

Ego, crotchet, quirk, and quibble,
Heedlessness and imprecision,
Spites and slights and recklessness,
Bad manners, faulty vision.

Take your choice. It hardly matters
When the fusillade begins;
You can chalk it up to Kismet
Or a multitude of sins.

Let us skip the gory details
And get the coroner’s report,
Which says they found five slugs in Bonnie,
Two of them straight through the heart.

But Bonnie’s clip was empty too,
Much to their surprise,
And what killed “Open-Carry” Clyde
Hit him right between the eyes.

‘Twas a sad, sad day in Texas:
Gnashing teeth, woe, and despair,
And so for proper eulogy
They called Wayne LaPierre.

And Wayne was simply livid
And voiced his consternation
With too much law and government
And state gun regulation.

“Why, do you know in Texas...
Where we ought to be free men...
The law says you can’t even own a handgun
Till your TEN!

“And there sits poor Winchester, ORPHANED!
And who of us can say
If he’d only had a pistol,
Well, he might have saved the day!

“So let us here rededicate ourselves,”
Said Wayne, “to our great cause,
And build the nation God intended,
A gun nation... free of laws!

“With guns for every citizen
Old enough to crawl
And free ammo with each purchase
At every shop and mall.

“And free ranges for machine guns
If you’d like to go and try ‘em,
Or Sherman Tanks and F-16s
If you’re rich enough to buy ‘em.”

‘Twas a glorious memorial
And everybody cried
For brave Stand-Your-Ground Bonnie
And her Open-Carry Clyde.