The Outpatient's Lament - I Wish I Was A Cowboy!

Sam Parry

I wish I was a cowboy, out ridin’ on the range,
Then broken bones and aching backs wouldn’t seem so strange.
I wish I was a cowboy, I’d spit Pain in the eye,
You wouldn’t hear me whimper or wail or even cry.

I wish I was a cowboy, all bronzed and tough and bold,
I wouldn’t feel the blazin’ sun, I’d laugh at frozen cold.
I wish I was a cowboy, my gut would feel no pain,
I’d ride out in the howlin’ winds and head into the rain.

 

Old Bob

Bill Henderson

We was hangin’ all over
The limbs of that tree.
Harley and Jinks,
Shorty and me.

That bull came a’snorting’
From outa the brush,
Diggin’and chargin’
The four of us.

The branding forgotten,
The irons in the fire,
We scattered for safety
By getting up higher.

Now we were stranded
Up there in the sky,
Storm clouds a’gatherin’
And thunder on high

Gene McCormick

 

Somewhere on the Black Feet Reservation

Anthony Kendrick

(I)

The Great Spirit
made the hardscape
and the softscape
for the landscape.

The scapegoats
have been fenced in,
in the name of progress,
with no hope
for escape

(II)

The Great Plains spread west;
a brown empty canvas
waiting to be filled.

Rivers pulled slow and wide,
brushed into the prairie grass.
Wildflowers and sage
from hills to mountains,
prepared like a feast.

 

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

 

Old Jethro

Harris Tobias

Me and old Jethro were ridin’ the line
Checkin’ the fences and such
The weather was hot but the horses were fine
And the cattle were down in the gultch

I looked at old Jethro, he never said much
He sat tall and straight as a pine
His face was tanned the color of snuff
And his clothes were covered with grime

Like many a cowpoke he was practically mute
As silent and still as a deer
But when he spoke he told you the truth
Usually something you needed to hear

 

Bunkhouse Christmas

Harris Tobias

Now a bunkhouse is a barren place
Not all like a regular home
No fancy stuff, no gewgaws
It’s Spartan to the bone

Christmas in the bunkhouse
Was never much to see
Some mesquite and prickly pear
Was all we had for greenery

I think it was young Tim‘s idea
“There’s somethin' that we need.”
So he went out with his lasso
And roped a tumbleweed

 

Tough Job

Harris Tobias

The cowboys were tired after a day in the rain
Tired of ropin’ and brandin' and such
The horses were wet but they didn’t complain
For comfort neither asked much

A little hot grub and a warm dry bed
Was all they ever expected
Some place safe to lay their head
A place they felt somewhat protected

 

Cowboy Nick

Amy Elizabeth

First time I got throwed from a young colt’s back,
I blamed that horse instead of the skill I lacked.
My face was still in the dirt when an ol’ cowboy callin’ himself Nick,
Extended his hand an’ said, “Son, a good horse ain’t never made quick.
There’s one thing you ain’t learned that’s an absolute must,
The first rule of any partnership is based on trust.”

 

Cowboy’s Son

Amy Elizabeth

Ain’t it the truth ‘bout there always bein’ one,
His name was Ben, seemed he never got a dang thing done.
He wasn’t much fittin’ for the teachin’s at school,
An’ when he quit most folks were right quick callin’ him fool.

Most young fellas can’t see past buying their first truck,
Thinkin’ the fat end of a hog was any job that paid a buck.
But Ben was pretty slick when it come to ropin’,
An’ like his Pa he’d be a cowboy too, ‘least he was hopin’.