Poor Jack, his eyes were cruel
They would pop when saw a duel
They would talk with words cruel
To themselves and to Jack
The left was grey, and the right green
Without them he couldn’t have seen
All the useless times been
All the politics of liquid crack
When they saw the fat, suited
The left would smile, the right hooted
As the fat with lies mooted
While Jack just sat and drank
When his thoughts with grapes mixed
They would sow their seeds, fixed
Upon the fat their words affixed
While intoxication did Jack grab
The fat would quote from books old
From his notes that he’d unfold
Every time he spoke, he sold
Another idea that Jack drank
But the eyes were smarter still
They saw the words of lying Bill
Their only wish, with a knife to kill
To stab the fat in the heart
No last revolution did they see
Coming out of the vocal spree
Just a decadent political decree
That they didn’t want Jack to buy
So they plotted a scarlet murder
When Jack would be all asunder
As whiskey make him smile and stutter
They would play their wretched trick
With a thought they would send
Make the staggering drunk pretend
As in reverence Jack extend
His hand to greet fat Bill
So it came that Jack did stand
Drunk and swaying as a man
Smiling as a stupid fan
Beside the wooden podium
Jack didn’t know what he did
But he felt that he was hit
And while falling his tongue bit
With blood spurting from his mouth
They chained him and took him out
Made him stand in front of Sprout
Who smiled as he his gun pulled out
And shot Jack in the head
The grey eye closed before the green
Because nothing alas! Come between
The eye’s sparkling murderous glean
Not even whiskey did the trick
And so Jack on the street buried
As the revolution in rage scurried
As later children in books studied
Theories on assassination attempts.
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