Bonnie and Clyde

poem from the 1969 Bonnie and Clyde film…

You've heard the story of Jesse James

Of how he lived and died

If you're still in need

Of something to read

Here's the story of Bonnie and Clyde.

Now Bonnie and Clyde are the Barrow gang

I'm sure you all have read

How they rob and steal

And those who squeal

Are usually found dyin' or dead.

They call them cold-hearted killers

They say they are heartless and mean

But I say this with pride

That I once knew Clyde

When he was honest and upright and clean.

But the laws fooled around

Kept takin' him down

And lockin' him up in a cell

Till he said to me: "I'll never be free

So I'll meet a few of them in Hell."

If a policeman is killed in Dallas

And they have no clue to guide

If they can't find a fiend

They just wipe their slate clean

And hang it on Bonnie and Clyde

If they try to act like citizens

And rent them a nice little flat

About the third night

They're invited to fight

By a sub-guns' rat-a-tat-tat.

Some day, they'll go down together

They'll bury them side by side

To a few, it'll be grief

To the law, a relief

But it's death for Bonnie and Clyde.

The ending sequence where Bonnie and Clyde meet their demise is among my favorites in cinema history.  They’re riding in a car, Bonnie pulls out a pear, takes a bite, and then offers it to Clyde, and he bites from the same spot, very Adam and Eve like.  That sharing of the fruit, that symbolic sharing of fate is just such a romantic, poetic moment (given the context of what will befall them).  After the pear, they stop along the side of the road to help someone they think to be their friend, but he’s really a traitor setting them up for the cops.  As soon as Clyde gets out of the car, a flock of birds flutter away from the scene, as if they sense the imminent danger.  The cops burst out of the bushes with tommy guns and unload what seems like a million rounds in them - an ultra violent death for ultra violent people.  I’m not too violent of a man myself, and I’m not particularly looking forward to death, but if I had to pick a way to leave this world, the Bonnie and Clyde route of going down in a barrage of fire with the woman I love is probably in my top desirable deaths, right after spontaneous combustion.