Giddy-up, Old Glue, I'm ready to ride!
We’re no longer runnin’ ridges
Me aboard Big Buck
For he morphed into Dog Chow
I’m too damned bunged up
We used to chase dry heifers
We dodged the jack pine’s swat
I somehow stayed aboard Big Buck
How? I do know not
For hours we stared at bull butts
As we pushed those louts along
Up the South Fork of the Teton
God knew that it was wrong
When we got to the trailhead
We paused to piss and moan
I dragged myself back on Big Buck
We both did fart and a groan
They wuz smirkin’, Bill and Johnny
I said, “Boys, I’m havin’ fits
It seems that yur idea of fun
Is the physical shits!”
We pushed over to the North Fork
Of the creek they call the Deep
We got there just before I begged
The Lord my soul to reap
Now if there is a moral
To this tawdry little tale
Next time yuh need some cattle punched
I still swing a pole-ax well!
©2011/duke larance/all rights reserved/December 11, 2011
duke larance – the drugstore cowboy poet
www.authorsden.com/dukelarance
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