Old Man Striker And His Red-Headed Whore

They were wild ones,
These two
Mired in gore,
Old Man Striker
And his red-headed whore.
A time so bloody,
None could remember
The path they rode
That dreadful September.
Their Colts 44
Barked and tore,
Like tusks
On a blood-craving boar.
Came then the vigilantes
To hunt them down.
In retribution, two corpses lie
By the road to old Tucson town.
Gone to rampage no more,
Old Man Striker
And his red-headed whore.

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