Gail, in Jail

 

How could I not regale the tale

Of my former best buddy Gail?

She currently resides in jail

For murdering her spouse, Mikhail.

He cheated on her, without fail

Come rain or snow or wind or hail.

 

So one day she began to rail

And weep and tear her hair, and wail

Because her marriage, false and stale

Had caused her sorrow beyond scale.

And, partly due to taking ale,

Her rage and anger would prevail.

 

She bought some poison meant for snail

(Obtained it wholesale, not retail.)

And then she took a brace of quail;

Which she baked in an iron pail

Served it all with curly kale

To her unfaithful, errant male.

 

Shortly after lunch, Mikhail

Began to appear pale and frail

His arms and legs to thrash and flail

And scream as loudly as a whale

I will not go into detail.

(If you must know, then please e-mail)

 

A paramedic, Mr Smale

Attempted rescue, to no avail.

Gail was arrested, refused bail

And on the rest, I'll draw a veil.

But Gail, she's in the women's jail

And will be, for a long time scale.

The End

71 comments about this poem Feed