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Cowboy Poetry and Western Verse
Cowboy Jack
Harris Tobias
Cowboy Jack was big and black
And tough as an old cow’s hide
When it came to a brawl
He’s the man you would call
To keep the odds on your side
Now Jack did his work without any perks
He’d be in his saddle all day
He weren’t no saint
But he never complained
He gave an honest days work for his pay
Other cowpokes raised hell with town folks
But Jack stayed away from that scene
He stayed out of bars
And slept under the stars
And generally kept his nose clean
That wasn’t the same for the boys from the claim
Those miners were hard to keep calm
They’d drink and they’d fight
All through the night
And generally raise hell until dawn
The worst of the lot was a man they called Rock
A miner as big as a barn
He was mean as a snake
And he left in his wake
A pile of rubble and harm
Now it came to pass sure as cattle eat grass
That Jack and the miner would meet
Jack was in town
For a good look around
And bumped into Rock on the street
Now Rock got a shock when he saw a black face
And made a loud racial jibe
Of all of life’s burrs
Overt racial slurs
Was something Jack couldn’t abide
Now I wasn’t there but from what I hear
This is how the story went down
Jack grabbed Rock by the wrist
And with his fist
He knocked the big man to the ground
Now Rock wasn’t used to being abused
And sprang up with hate in his eyes
But just like they say
About bullies is they
Are cowards no matter their size
Rock was undone and reached for his gun
And shot poor Jack in the head
Jack staggered and fell
But strange to tell
He got up for he wasn’t quite dead
Wounded and bleeding his anger exceeding
All reason, Jack battered the Rock till he cried
He squeezed him and bashed him
So resoundingly thrashed him
His friends watched him crawl off to hide
After the beating, with Rock’s friends retreating,
Jack’s anger had a chance to subside
Now the way that I hear it
His wound so severe it
Left no way that Jack could survive
So he gave his horse to his friend and boss
And his saddle to his good buddy Clyde
Then with a sigh
He laid down to die
And right there on Main Street he died
People speak in hushed tones when they mention Jack’s bones
Lying in a grave on Boot Hill
But they don’t speak the name
Of the one who’s to blame
And I don’t think anyone ever will
Cowboy Jack was big and black
And tough as an old cow’s hide
When it came to a brawl
He’s the one you would call
To keep the odds on your side
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