Cowboy Poetry Gathering...
(or “How to write a cowboy
po’m”
by
Eric Lee
Oh-four…Sharlot
Hall, in Prescott; I went down to hear
Mike Dunn
an' read some of my own
stuff (kinda mostly just for fun).
Lloyd Shelby
read some po'try, but I missed
Byrd Woodward
there...
then I stepped outside to
get some air.
An old man with a face
like hard years handed me a beer
an' said "You told a story
'bout my own life inside there!
It made me sorta
misty-eyed" he told me, soundin' gruff.
"Tell me, Son...how do
you write that stuff?"
(Well, to me, that there's
a poser, 'cause I never could'a not!
If I didn't write these
rhymes of cowboy life, I don't know what
would keep me sane. I live
a world, these days, that's hard and fast
and there's memories that
I just need to last.)
I told him "One part
mem'ries of my Pa's red beans an' bacon,
one slug of good, strong
whiskey while the coffee's still a makin'...
one dose of stock-yard
perfume, two of Granny's Good-Book readin'.
That's “part one” of
what-all you'll be needin'.
"Stir in one good taste of
oak-wood campfire smoke
that follers ever'where
you move until yer like t'choke!
Add deals behind the
chutes fer yer best buddy's vicoden
('cause doctor bills are
so high it's a sin!)
"blend it slow with all
the times you come up one point shy
and add the gal you lost
for what you done that loser's night
and how you miss her now.
Mix in GrandDaddy's best advice
an' all the things you
never will do twice!"
"Spice with the jaw you
aimed for, that drunk night you broke your knuckle
an' the way you felt the
day they handed you that first gold buckle!
Cook it slow with all the
smells that mix to tell you 'home'
and with some luck, you
got a cowboy po'm!"
The ol' man handed me
another beer, an' told me "Son,
thanks for takin' time to
talk". He squinted at the sun
an' said "I better git fer
home, 'cause supper's likely on.
With three kids, if I'm
late, it'll sure be gone!"
I heard 'em call my name,
just then, so I went back inside
and read another rhyme
about another real hard ride
but midway, I recalled the
thing I'd missed about my life.
'cause I should'a thought
to tell 'im 'bout my wife…
but if he had supper
waitin', that's a part that he knew well
about a cowboy's life, and
one I had no need to tell.
If he had her and three
strong kids a'waitin' there at home
he had a dang good start
on his own po'm.
© MMV eric lee