Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 116, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 709 & 710, September/October 2000

What hostile frame of mind embraces

 This row of sulky little faces,

Resembling so a prison lineup,

 that no suggested sport will shine up?

Like listless cons, who hate restrictions

 that counteract their own convictions,

They find no purpose left, attractive,

 to keep their grubby fingers active.

As once they did, before arraignment,

 they case the joint for entertainment,

And, finding none, revert to creatures

 with wild, distorted twisted features.

In restless fits, the inmates rumble

 from mood of either rough and tumble,

To screams sufficiently demented

 to keep a lion tamer tented.

I cannot hang them by the thumbs,

 and thus my warden’s role becomes

A race involving Hari-Kari

 and sweet approaching solitary.

Stir-crazy children, on vacation,

 while Mother, Keeper of Probation,

Implores the Heavens strength to give ’er

 till Autumn sends them up the river.