Her Clown Prince
(with all due apologies to Alfred Noyes)

The heat was heavy as a sandbag, although the sun was setting;
The air was still and humid and all Gotham must be sweating;
The August crime rate was frightful, if you looked you wished you had not;
And the Joker he came strolling—
Strolling—strolling—
The Joker he came strolling, across the lumber lot.

He'd a purple tux on his body, white greasepaint on his face,
His mouth was stretched in a smile, and not a green hair out of place;
Fresh bloodstains were on his leather shoes, which would never be the same,
And he strode with an evil chuckle,
His throat was full of the chuckle,
The lot was filled with the chuckle, as toward her window he came!

She was Mary Sue Mackenzie, daughter of a lumber dealer;
But she had little love for the business, she preferred to date a stealer;
She'd known from the first they were soulmates, their passions so did mesh;
They both loved getting money,
And buying sharp things with money,
She'd taught him to use a chainsaw, and learned to carve human flesh!

"Your daddy's keys, please, my sweetie; I need a fast car this time,
But I shall leave you this package: the jewels from my latest crime!
Even if the Bat spoils the party, and forces me to hide,
I'll not forget your kindness,
I'll be sure to repay your kindness,
I swear I'll redeem this collateral, and return your father's ride!"

She was always glad to help him, she tossed him the keys to the Jag;
Thrilled at the thought of what he'd do, and then he'd return to brag
Of how this beautiful auto had aided his getaway;
Evading the cops and Batman,
Making fools of the cops and Batman,
Escaping to plot fresh mayhem, to perform some other day!

[To Be Continued]


Author's Note: What can I say? I'm shameless. Every once in a while it amuses me to look at a well-crafted poem and try to write a pastiche in much the same meter. (Perhaps a bit of literary quality will rub off on me that way? Hey, it's possible!) In this case, I suddenly felt inspired by that classic narrative poem, "The Highwayman," by Alfred Noyes. Although I just want to assure you right now that my intentions for the later plot development are a tad different from how he did things in the original version; I'm not just stealing his entire plot, all the way through. Would I do a thing like that? (If you're skeptical, wait for future installments and you'll see!)