Monday, August 1, 2016

New Adventures

The New Adventures of the Late Judge Roy Bean

The town council was frantic.
What are we to do?
Scofflaw are everywhere.
There’s a car parked in my spot

Then the air turned and the sky churned and a man stood before them.
“I’m Judge Roy Bean and I’ll clean up this town.”
And the sky churned and the wind blew and suddenly another man was there.
“That’s deputy Dan.”

And so the citizens were safe once again.
They could sleep at night
Cars could be parked.
The law had arrived.

Then court was in session.
The judge cracked his gavel. Court is open!
What’s the charge?

What of it?
A gum wrapper, it was.
Oh, did he hate litter.
 "Guess we’ll have to hang ya.”

Next case come forward.
What’s it gonna be?
The judge hated looking at people’s thumbs.

The town council was frantic.
What are we to do?
We’ve made a mistake.
But there’s no car in my spot.

This is a poem I published a long time ago in a small magazine long forgotten.

Judge Roy Bean, the only law west of the Pecos.  Often and erroneously called the hanging judge, truth is he was just a part time justice of the peace and saloon keeper.  He handled minor cases like stealing and drunkenness, but lacked the authority to run capital trails.  Although there is one tale of one case where he did order someone hanged...

Tomorrow we'll rap up hanging week with a real bad ass hanging judge.

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