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Cowboy Poetry and Western Verse
BUSTED
Mike Berger
He was hard as nails and as onery as
a wild mustang. At six foot four and
265, you didn't give him any lip. He
could wrestle a steer with one arm
and spit tobacco a mile and a half.
He santured his way into the saloon
smashing the double doors. The place
grew deathly quiet. The poker dealer
stopped dead in his tracks. The card
he had just dealt hung in the air. He
ordered a bottle and paid with gold.
Slowly the place lighten up. Fortunately
Tex wasn't a mean drunk. Heaven forbid
if he was. One of the ladies of the night
ran her fingers through the stubble on
his chin. She gave him a come hither look.
Tex ordered another glass and poured
the little lady a drink. She sat on his lap.
Suddenly the saloon grew stone quiet as
a lady burst through the door. She marched
over and grabbed Tex by the ear and led him
away.
BIG BLUE
Mike Berger
He is tall with skinny legs.
Big Blue is as black as coal but
with a tinge of blue. His coat glistens.
He looks like he has stepped
from the pages of a calendar.
People stop and admire him.
Blue is fine if they stay their distance.
Get up close and he becomes
a junkyard dog.
Blue will bite and step on you. If you
try to ride him he'll throw you a mile.
He might take the bit in his teeth
and spin you around in circles.
My grandpa is the only one who can ride
Big Blue. Somehow they have developed
an understanding. Big Blue is putty
in grandpa's hands.
Blue will nuzzle my grandpa as he
curries him. He eats apples from grandpa's
hand. Grandpa quietly talks to him;
I often wonder what he says.
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