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Ridin the Range

Story ID:6371
Written by:Monte Leon Manka (bio, contact, other stories)
Organization:retired
Story type:Poem
Location:Hemet CA. USA
Year:1880
Person:Chapped Chelsea Kansas Kid
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Ridin the Range

Ridin the Range

I’ve been astraddle this saddle
For almost six weeks
This is really telling
On a cowboy’s physique.

My hide is blistered
From that unbearable sun
I’ll be glad
When this jobs dun.

The chuck wagon
Broke down a while ago
Haven’t had any good chow
For a week or so.

It’s rained
So no fire could be lit
Ever trying cooking in the rain
Or tryin to light wet buffalo chips?

I’ve eaten “curried coyote”
Rump of rabbit stew
When that old roan horse died
I cut off a steak or two.

If you think it’s so great
While sittin around the fire
Singing “git along Little Doggies”
While some cowboy strums a guitar

Don’t be misled for a moment
That’s only in a cowboy flick.
Out here on the range
You don’t dare get sick.

If you do
The herd moves on
They leave you to get well
Or go to the great beyond.

If “Old Paint” breaks a leg
While far from any home
You have to carry your saddle and gun
And you do it all alone

So if you tenderfoot’s
Think this is so great
You should do some research
And contemplate your fate,

Ridin the Range
Ain’t no fun
But if that’s the only job there is
Then “Gitter Dun”

Monte L. Manka 09-29-10