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November 29, 2012

Dayworker blues

Cowboy poetry

Mike Price

The Dodge is purrin’ like a

kitten

Then things go all to hell.

I lose a trailer tire

Welcome to daywork hell.



I don’t have a four-way

The jack, she doesn’t

work.

I hate the smell of burning

rubber

I’m about to go berserk.



I slam the gate latch into

my leg

I break a bridle rein.

I had to get up at 3:15

This is drivin’ me insane.



At least two horses need

iron

The truck insurance is

due.

But I guess it ain’t all bad,

My saddle’s nearly new.



I got another one on order

With 1750 down.

I bet I got two years to pay

it off

Before it comes around.



The concho maker is not

on time.

I’m owned a set of spurs.

All the custom gear mak

ers

Act like a pack of curs.



My rope’s got a big ole

kink

And a little twist.

If I could go without some

sleep,

I’d braid strings out of

this.



I’ve got five pairs of hand

made boots,

One pair with decent

soles.

But I guess they match

my jeans,

They’re all full of holes.



My hat is smellin’ really

bad

It looks real nasty, too.

I need to get another made

Let’s face it folks, I’m

screwed.



And my slicker’s full of

holes,

My saddle pad’s wore out.

Don’t know if I should yell

and scream

Or sit around and pout.



If I can make it ‘til the

spring

With half my wits intact,

I’ll get to drag some calves

again,

I always love all that.

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