Od’d(ode) to Whitey Bulger
by Susan King Saunders
OD’D (ode) TO WHITEY BULGER
Hickory dickory dock
The mouse ran up the clock
Yo Whitey
I hear you’re from Southy
But you’re going Northy
You were pretty Mouthy
Now you’ll be a shorty
You slaughtered the daughter
The son father and mother
Now your time is coming
Unlike any other
You won’t see a day
In the street again
Your body will rot
For all of your sins
Massachusetts does not
Have the death penalty
But to your death
Your spirit shall flee
Hickory Dickory Dock
The
mouse
ran
down
the
clock
Copyright ©: 2013
—————
The End
And that’s the End of the Poem
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