Reagan and Hinckleys Bullets

Some forty years back, in Time Magazine, Saw I a narrow missing of bald head By the bullets from Hinckley’s magazine He had reserved for Ronald Reagan’s head, Save that they had agreed about his ribs: If Cowboy still lived, talk like babes with bibs… The missed lucky skull that of a press man I still remember bald, some kind of pan, The Guy having bent down to catch his note, Able to fast do so in a thick coat… God! It must have been some sacred jotter And this it proved against shorts that totter… Either Satan forget his script and ways Or God had sought to lengthen his days; Still the jotter was his damned rescuer, When Hinckley had wanted to heads skewer, The jotter qualifying for the archives; If you asked me: Deliverers’ Archives!