October 31st, 1920. 2:00 Am

Seven rickety truckloads
Streamed through the barren pines
On haunted Iroquois roads
Illegitimate, cruel, rustic and obscene

The cargo rattled with malice
As their headlights carved
Through the naked wilderness
Crews sat comfortable boxed in
Huddled from the cold witchery,of autumn nightfall

Wool caps and stern expressions
Were cloned behind every steering wheel
Every passenger clutched his automatic
Holstered beneath their dingy overcoats

From out of the quiet forest
And onto the winding road
Four stags dashed before the leading truck
The driver veered left and right
Then toppled on his side
Succumbing to death and flame

The inferno raged
Swallowing the driver and passenger alive
Where their lonesome cries, faltered unheard

Six rickety truckloads
Approached the grizzly and flickering spectacle
Screeching to a halt in desperate unison

The crews emerged fearful and wide eyed
Tracing the dark with pistols drawn
As worry wrenched their guts
And beads of concern streamed down their spines

A sudden and lonesome wisp
Howled through the naked pines
As the ghoulish white clouds began to roll
And overtake the watchful shimmering moon

Full prosperity
And the promise of an easy dollar
Had been overshadowed

The naked branches began to quake
Crackling and moaning, here and there
The sparse crackling fed into an orchestral roar
As the dead wilderness reconquered life
Unsheathing from the trembling darkness
And skewering these lost and perplexed travelers

Jagged twigs and branches
Zipped from every direction
Coating the roads with festering gore
And drawn streaks of flesh and bloodshed

The slaughter danced
To the tune of the whirling gusts
A vicious Jutting of the once silent pines
In a symphony of blood, retribution and vengeance

Corpses lined the road
Foul, hideous, dismembered and contorted
Some with pupils drawn back
Twitching upon every single pint spent

By dawn the public simply remarked
“New York, New York
Keep your crooked sons in line”