I'd vote for this as one of the worst poems ever written. And it certainly does not shed a favorable light on my great grandfather, Captain Kinney:

Captain Kinney and his crew
Coming north on number two,
When they heard a terrible noise,
And found it was the Dalton Boys.

They got out to run their bluff,
But the Dalton Boys were after "stuff,"
Kinney's crew soon got enough
For the Dalton Gang were all dead tough

Then JJ Kinney and Laflore
Got their heads inside the door,
And then laid down on the floor,
For the Dalton Boys were after gore.

Capt. Kinney was so brave
That's the way the people rave;
But the Dalton Boys made him cave,
And he did run his life to save.

Then he never moved a hand,
To catch that fearless band,
Because he was so short of sand,
For the finest detective in the land.

The Jackson Gang and Big Jim Gossage
Out with a link of bologna sausage,
Looking for the Dalton Gang,
Whom they say they'll hang.

O my! how the wind does blow,
So do the Jacksons, don't you know,
And you can bet they have gone south,
To catch the Daltons with their mouth.

They never bag their game,
Just like a Chinaman, all the same,
Get all they want in about a week,
And the Daltons will drown them at Pryor
Creek.

Published in The Sedalia Weekly Bazoo, August 16, 1892. The anonymous "poet" supposedly lived in Parson, Kansas. Two questions: 1)Does anybody know who the Jacksons and Big Jim Gossage are? 2) Can you think of any other crimes or criminals in the Territories that have inspired similar "literary" efforts?

--meursault