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Cowboy Poetry
KING OF THE HILL
Robert C. Atkin
My daddy's name is “Pistol Pete”
And I'm his only son
The spittin' image of my old man
And a bull ridin' son-of -a-gun
Last year we went down to Las Vegas town
It was “Bull-A-Rama” you see
A bunch of us boys makin' some noise
The favorites were my pa and me
The buckin' stock was rough but the riders were tough
A bull and a cowboy ain't friends
Comin' outta the chutes, horns ,spurs and boots
A fight 'til the bitter end
In each go-round some hit the ground
Others stayed on 'til the bell
'Midst the roar from the crowd, cowboys stood proud
But ya know; sometimes even winnin' was hell
Came the last ride, Pete and I were tied
He looked worn and low on ambition
And bein' young and unwise I didn't realize
Old Pistol had saved some ammunition
He stooped and said “Boy you're my pride and joy
I love ya and I always will
But in this contest to determine the best
Remember i'm still King of the Hill”
I drew “Lightnin' Rod” not a beast sent from God
Some say he was cut from the devil's own herd
I eased on his back; drew up on the slack
All quiet; nary a whistle, a whisper or word
Well I let out a shout 'n' we busted out
I nearly got hung in the gate
He's rank and he's wild this devil's own child
Could I hang on this time for eight
It was a rough trip but I had a good grip
'N' my tailbone was glued to his hide
What's even more I wanted to score
So my spurs were a rakin' his side
'Tho jarred to the bone; I was in the zone
I'd given the best that I had
Got the job done. Scored ninety-one
Why dontcha top that one; Dear Dad???
It was gonna be a thriller 'cuz Pete drew Old Killer
This bull had never bin rode
On his back they'd climbed over one hundred times
And every last cowboy'd bin throwed
Pistol settled in; tucked in his chin
Signaled with a nod of his head
And Killer unloaded like dynamite exploded
None other like it twas said
Killer twisted 'n' turned, wheeled 'n' he churned
Pa wouldn't make I thought
But old Pistol was cocked as he rolled 'n' he rocked
And gave that bull more than he got
It was obvious to me who the winner would be
Dad wasn't near close to a wreck
Just then Killer tripped and Pa's free hand it slipped
And slapped that old bull in the neck
The crowd clapped and roared I accepted the award
That championship buckle was mine
I got a lump in my craw when I looked and saw Pa
He winked and said “ I'm feelin' right fine”
Sittin' in the bar with my victory cigar
It was great to be number one
In the very next seat sat old Pistol Pete
Said.”I gotta tell ya somethin' there son'
“See ya won the buckle and the big bucks
But there's somethin' I gotta confide
And tonight whether it be win, lose or draw
This was gonna be my last ride
It was my last chance so I mortgaged the ranch
Retirement ain't easy to begin
But I'm still King of the Hill 'cuz I took that quarter “mill”
And bet it all on you to win!!!!'
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