Gacy's Day Parade

Gacy’s Day Parade

In the house of Killer Clown
on the streets of Norwood Park
the smell of something rotten
festers in the dark.

Beneath the fetid floorboards
buried deep within the dirt
are the corpses and the bones
of all the boys you hurt.

Gacy, can you hear them
screaming for their lives,
crying out for mercy,
wanting to survive?

Do you see their panicked faces
as you sit inside your cell?
Do you see their broken bodies
and pretend that all is well?

As a lawyer looks you in the eye
you give the court a plea.
But all the jurors in all the world
would not blame this on insanity.

Like the monster that you were
as you walked your last green mile,
“You can kiss my ass!” you screamed.
Euthanasia with a smile.

In the parking lot outside your jail
people gathered round that day
to celebrate your last goodbye;
to send you on your way.

When you drew your final breath
you got what was deserved.
Though death came far too swiftly
at least justice had been served.