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Shapes of Clay

by Ambrose Bierce

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Justice

Jack Doe met Dick Roe, whose wife he loved,
  And said: “I will get the best of him.”
So pulling a knife from his boot, he shoved
  It up to the hilt in the breast of him.

Then he moved that weapon forth and back,
  Enlarging the hole he had made with it,
Till the smoking liver fell out, and Jack
  Merrily, merrily played with it.

Then he reached within and he seized the slack
  Of the lesser bowel, and, traveling
Hither and thither, looked idly back
  On that small intestine, raveling.

The wretched Richard, with many a grin
  Laid on with exceeding suavity,
Curled up and died, and they ran John in
  And charged him with sins of gravity.

The case was tried and a verdict found:
  The jury, with great humanity,
Acquitted the prisoner on the ground
  Of extemporary insanity.

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