Poets, Bards & Liars

POETS, BARDS & LIARS

BULLRIDER

He's an ornery old cuss, ain't never been rode,

Fact is we've nicknamed him old three point five.

That ain't exactly his grade average tho,

but the longest a ride stayed alive…

Fifteen hundred pounds of downright rotten,

He stood there just snottin' and blowin'.

His right horn pointed east, the left one west,

he'd get you comin' and a goin'…

From his flabby old hump to his stubby pig tail,

This here was a bull to behold.

So when Tom drawed his number, he knowed that 8 seconds,

Would surely win him the gold…

Well, the ride went right good, right up to the point,

That old Tom bravely hollered "OUT".

Then the clouds built up quick, and thunder crashed,

And Tom began to doubt,---

That he could survive this dreadful experience,

he knowed that he weren't no match,

For three quarter tons of loose hided nasty,

His shirt hung on the gate latch.

Then it got serious, that old bull started twistin',

Backed Tom off of his string.

He forgot right then about winnin' the money,

Survival became the prime thing…

Tom alternately rode from bull stem to stern,

And purt near every part in between.

The older hands at the show later reported,

This was the wildest they'd ever seen.

The ride ended abruptly when old Tom went off,

But his hung up hand broke his fall.

Then it was time for the rag doll show,

Tom played the part of the doll…

The clowns joined in to help this bull jock,

Keep hisself attached to his arm.

Kinda like goldfish pesterin' a whale,

Or a mosquito mini-swarm.

Tom flopped back and forth 'tween cranky bull legs,

Like Bob Ross a cleanin' his brush.

Then he finally broke loose, lay there in the arena,

Like a puddle of cracked wheat mush.

The ambulance came in and hauled him away,

To the clinic fer bull rider patchin'.

The team of sawbones had to view a schematic,

To aid in the re-attachin'.

Three ribs had been broke, his whip had been lashed,

His spleen and his kidney had swapped places.

They hooked up every part the ambulance had delivered,

But still they's some vacant spaces.

X-rays and probin', and consultin' some colleagues,

Then to the old MRI

The brain scan showed a gray matter deficit,

The surgeons was stumped as to why.

Then they compared the brain bulk of old Tom,

With the RCA average cowhand.

Turned out that Tom was about three IQ points higher,

Than the rest out in rodeo land.

It looked fer awhile that Kervorkian was needed,

Then the medics announced he'd survive.

Tom's wife came to visit what remained of her man,

She's so happy to have him alive.

She told him she loved him and he motioned her close,

He's too weak to speak out loud.

'Sides, Tom was too macho, and his wife knew he'd not say,

Such mushiness while they'ze a crowd.

She expected endearments from what's left of her man,

As she leaned down to catch every sound.

"They'ze a big bull-o-rama in Wilcox next week,

Sign me up fer the go-round"….