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Ride or Bust
| Open Poetry #20 |
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Ride or Bust |
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John Yaws Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 860Texas 
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Rolling west on Ninety- Headed for Alpine… Four straight weeks of buckin’ off- Is all I left behind. I mailed ahead my entries- Back when I was flush. I’m down to my last tank of gas- I’ll either ride, or bust. My Wrangler jeans are faded- My boots are wearin’ thin- My belly thinks my throat’s been cut, Tonight I’d better win. It’s been a long hard season- I guess that’s all for us- The rodeo’s all I have left… I guess it’s ride or bust. I cinch my bucking saddle Down on a blue roan hide… I settle down astraddle… Then the chute gate opens wide. I nail him in the shoulders- I know I’ve marked him clean… I’m spurring with his rhythm He’s bucking high and mean… I hear the buzzer sounding- And the crowd is going wild. I bail off cleanly, tip my hat… I guess they like my style. Eighty-four the judges say- I finished in the dough… I’ll ride again tomorrow- Then I’ll head on down the road. And when I call the wife tonight- I know she’s gonna fuss… She’d rather that I hung it up- But knows I’ll ride or bust! |
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| © Copyright 2002 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
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janmew Member
since 2001-10-27
Posts 134Canada |
Love your style Gunslinger, the story tellin gets to me every time. I like this piece. It's true with many things in life, not just rodeo, that when it gets in your blood you just can't shake it. My dad was a farmer, snd though he bought a house in town to "retire in" my mother always knew he'd likely "die in the barnyard".  Jan |
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