Every year I try to channel my inner cowboy and write a little poetry. So sit back, relax, and try not to picture me in a Three Amigos costume*.
[*You're already doing it, aren't you? I knew it.]
Jed was a cowboy who wanted to sing
'Bout huntin' an' fishin' an' bein' right-wing.
As a matter of course
He camo'd his horse
But now he can't find the dang thing
Is that an ear, dear?
Who knows, nose?
But that's an eye, aye?
As I ponder the existential stylings of my empty holster and overflowing chaps
And in the corner,
silent bug-eyed stare
why are you making that face
I hope that's a tail
Poop in the mane
Poop in the maaane!
It don't matter one whit
Where your horse takes a... hit
So long as there's no poop
in the mane.
Thanks to my amigos Emily F., Sandy L., Katie T., Carrie B., & Whitney K., who would definitely say that I have a plethora of poetry-penning talent. (Right? ;))