Cowboy Poetry: Stan Paregien



			THE COYOTE HUNT

	

		Out on the Rocking J things weren't

			going too well.

		Fact is, old Jack Walters was plain

			madder'n hell.

		The coyotes were stealing his chickens

			left and right,

		Even though old Jack watched for them

			day and night.

	

		One summer evening the moon was shining

			like a silver dollar,

		And Jack had just gone to sleep when

			the coyotes commenced to holler.

		So Jack got his shotgun and stumbled

			out the cabin door.

		"Come on, Red," he whispered to his big

			dog, "We got us a chore."

	

		Now, boys, I'm here to tell ya it was one =09

			heck of a sight.

		Old Jack, naked as can be, followed by Big

			Red into the night.

		They sneaked toward the chicken coop way

			out toward the back.

		And the closer they got, the more nervous

			and fidgety grew Jack.





		All of a sudden Jack heard something move

			and he stopped short.

		And his nearsighted dog, Big Red, moved up

			behind him for a snort.

		Red's cold, wet nose made poor old Jack

			jump and shout.

		He even dropped his shotgun in the dirt

			while dancin' about.

	

		Now the moral of this story, neighbors,

			is perfectly clear.

		Don't hunt with no dog big enough to

			cold-nose your rear.


Backfire

Way out in enchanted New Mexico,
Up where the sweet pinion grow,
On the rugged Sangre De Christo
A pack train traveled very slow.

The leader was a mighty big man,
A forest ranger known as a talker.
Of nature's land he was a fan,
His handle was Elliott Barker*.

He loved that virgin terrain
And enjoyed showing its beauty
To people simple and plain,
Or to big whigs, as was his duty.

This day he had a special guest
Who rode close behind his horse,
As they climbed toward the crest
And high up the mountain course.

His horse knew this narrow pass,
But it musta eaten moldy hay.
For danged if it didn't pass gas,
Loudly, every step of the way.

The wind up there can be bad--
Tearing at the land so fair.
But this day no breeze was had
And the backfire hung in the air.

Finally they reached a level place
And stopped for a needed rest.
The society lady in fancy lace
Dismounted at Barker's behest.

Afraid her dignity had been hurt
By all that noise and stink,
A hasty apology he did blurt
As he sensed his face turning pink.

"I trust you'll forgive the smell
--a bad stomach ache, of course."
The lady blushed as her words fell,
"Oh, my, I thought it was your horse."

Copyright 1996
* Cowboy musicologist Jim Bob Tinsley was a friend of Elliott and his brother, the late cowboy poet S. Omar Barker, and told me that story as a true one, at the National Cowboy Symposium in Lubbock, Texas on June 1, 1991. I later found Barker's own discussion of the event in his book, Western Life and Adventures: 1889 to 1970 (Albuquerque, NM: Calvin Horn Publisher, Inc., 1970, pp. 282-83). Elliott Barker was the father of "Smokey the Bear." As the state game warden of New Mexico, he took a fire-singed cub and promoted it as a symbol of the need to protect the forest. I am currently working on a book on the life and writings of S. Omar Barker.


Mail Order Brides

Henry sent off his letter in January of '21,
Blissfully unaware of what he had begun.
Rode his pony into town regular as could be,
But got no reply til near the end of February.

The envelope was pretty and smelled good, too.
And it was postmarked back east in Kalamazoo.
He rushed outside to read it to his old horse.
Didn't need anybody else listenin', of course.

She said, "I'll be on the train to your town
On March 1st, so please don't let me down."
That just gave him two days to get things straight,
So he knew he had not one minute to hesitate.

The time came and he met her at the station.
Guess you could say there was no great elation.
When they met there was somethin' in their eyes;
But, boys, that look was pure-bred surprise.

By the photo she sent, he expected a pretty young thing.
And the way she looked at him she wasn't about to sing.
"Truth is," she said, "that photo was really of my sister."
"Well," says he, "that big ranch I mentioned ain't no bigger'n a blister."

That was quite a spell ago, and they had not one regret;
Though it did take awhile to fall in love after they met.
They loved together 47 years, despite the fact they had lied.
Guess that's not too bad for a cowboy and a mail order bride.


Miss Hattie's




Lester Potts had just turned sixteen 

        way back in 1887,

While trailin' cattle up to San Angelo

        for the Bar-Eleven.

The old cowpunchers told him he was in

        for quite a treat.

'Cause a feller could get most anythin'

        on East Concho Street.



"Son," said the foreman, "there's old whiskey

        and young women.

"But understand, boy, it sure ain't nothin'

        fer the timid."

Now greenhorn Lester Potts was droolin',

        just eager to be had.

"Shoot," says he, "until I get there

        they ain't seen nobody bad."



The other buckaroos allowed as how

        Lester sure was game,

But they all placed their bets

        against him just the same.

They pushed their cattle to market

        and soon as they got paid,

They rode like hell to Miss Hattie's

        for Lester to get laid.



Miss Hattie's was above a saloon

        at 18 East Concho Street,

And for head-to-toe pleasure

        it couldn't be beat.

For Miss Hattie had ten beautiful girls

        of every color and size.

And her most popular, blond Miss Sarah,

        coulda won a prize.



Miss Sarah was undeniably good, but her

        two-dollar charge was too much.

Miss Goldie quickly accepted fifty-cents

        and took Lester into her clutch.

Elmo played the harmonica as she and Lester

        walked down the hall.

Old Jim Mullins yelled, "If you need help,

        boy, give me a call!"



The Bar-Eleven bunch settled down

        in the parlor for a spell.

And while they waited

        their almighty thirst they did quell.



They watched as several leading citizens

        of the highest rank

Sneaked into Miss Hattie's through a tunnel

        linked to the bank.

This bawdy house was special,

        one of the finest in the Southwest.

Oriental rugs and soft feather beds,

       why, nothin' but the best.



When the hour was up and Lester came out,

       he was sure a sight.

Looked like he had come up the loser

       in a bad barroom fight.

"Don't worry 'bout this kid,"

       Miss Goldie said as she waved goodbye.

"Taught me a trick or two," says she,

       with a twinkle in her eye.



And so the legend of Lester Potts

       was born and grow'd.

He absolutely was not a great lover,

       but only he and Miss Goldie know'd.

How on that sultry summer night

       in 1887 they put on the best of shows,

'Cause they spent that whole darned hour

       playin' a game of dominos.


The Rancher and the Mental Patient


        A rancher was on his way to town one day 

        When a wheel fell off his pickup truck 

        In front of a state mental institution. 

        He got out and began cussing his bad luck. 



        A patient, looking through a fence, said: 

        "Regarding your plight, an idea I've found. 

        Take one lug nut off each the other wheels. 

        It will hold that wheel on until you get to town." 



        The rancher was amazed and to him said, 

        "I can't beat that idea with a stick.

        But how is it that I didn't think of it, 

        And you did, when you're mentally sick?" 



        The mental patient stepped back a bit

        And looked as if he went suddenly numb:

        "Sir," said he, "I may indeed be crazy;

        But that certainly doesn't mean I'm dumb." 


Ode to the Weekend Rancher


    Oscar Cauthen has a little spread 

    Out on the east edge of town. 

    He works as a computer technician 

    When the ranch he's not around. 



    Now, Oscar only ranches after hours 

    And every single weekend, usually. 

    And he has a lot of things to learn

    About ranching in a way so gentlemanly. 



    Just last week he made the bad mistake of 

    Locking his 20" chain saw up in a 15" tree.

    And when it comes to killing rattlesnakes,

    He quit counting when he passed forty-three. 



    Already he has spent much more time 

    At the tractor shop than the coffee shop.

    And his accountant says the ranch is in red, 

    Because those danged vet bills won't stop.

 

    Poor ol' Oscar has had so many flat tires 

    That he carries an air tank in his truck.

    Last week at the auction he bought a heifer 

    Which was a steer, so he's down on his luck.



    Sunday he was hurriedly backing his pickup

    Between some trees with his door ajar,

    When a limb slapped him up side the head 

    And his new 10X Stetson rolled off afar. 



    However, Oscar ain't moving back to town,

    For there's another side to this story.

    Like the thrill of watching the morning mist

    Rising over the creek on the north forty. 



    He will never forget the thrill of putting 

    His own brand on a heifer the first time. 

    Or of he and his wife and sons delivering 

    A calf under the midnight stars so sublime.



    How can he ever describe to city folks 

    The joy of a walk in the woods in early morn? 

    Or of your family sitting out on the porch 

    At evening without sounds of siren or horn?



    Oscar knows how it feels to sit in the saddle 

    Watching his own cattle at the setting sun. 

    His family saw four pretty does watching them 

    Having a picnic after the chores were done. 



    City life sure has its share of advantages, 

    And every weekend rancher knows that's true.

    But there's no place like one's own ranch 

    To see God's world under a mantle of blue. 


The First Buzzard


 

 Two cowboys relaxed on the steps

 Leading to the local feed store.

 One spat tobacco at a tumble bug,

 While the other cowboy began to snore.

 

 Their solitude was broken when

 A dude roared up in a fancy sports car.

 He wore a double-breasted sports coat

 And pointed shoes made somewhere afar.

 

 The dude looked around at the town,

 Where not a soul stirred on the street.

 As he got of out of his air conditioned car

 He looked like he was melting from the heat.

 

 "Excuse me, gentlemen," the New Yorker 

 Pointed toward the cowboys and said:

 "Tell me, just how long has this 

 "Pathetic berg been declared dead?"

 

 One cowboy mimicked the dude's talk:

 "I'd say not too long, old bean.

 "In fact, not long at all I'd say.

 "For you're the first buzzard we've seen."


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You can contact Stan at Paregien@bigfoot.com.
Also visit his home page: Stan Paregien's Campfire
Last update: May 22, 1997