Gwen Petersen: In a Sow’s Ear 2-28-11
This is an old joke, but sometimes it’s fun to put a tall story into verse.
Sick, Sad and Sorry –
A Woeful Tale
Cowboy Hank ordered a beer and a shot
determined to drown his pain.
His life had gone sour, his dog had died
and his horse had pulled up lame.
His wife took up with a travelin’ man
and left the kids with him.
Hank fell into a fit of doldrums,
his mood turned sour and dim.
To drown his sorrows he went to the bar
and asked for a double shot.
“Bartender,” he said, “gimme a double,
I’m gonna drink till I drop.”
Right about then, a big burly biker
stomped into the bar.
Big as a tree with chains and tattoos,
you could see him from planet Mars.
He took a stool right next to Hank
and decided he’d have some fun
He grabbed Hank’s double and said
with a sneer, “Here’s to you old son!”
He swallowed Hank’s whiskey,
belched real loud & patted his biker gut
Then snarled, “Hey cowboy, you sorry twit,
wanna kick my butt?”
Ol’ Hank he quavered, tears in his voice,
“Don’t matter none to me,
Ain’t fightin’ you, don’t want the bother’
go on and let me be.”
Right about then, Hank started to cry
as he thought about his woes
The biker said, “Hey, stop with the
sniveling afore I smash yer nose!”
“Oh, yeah,” said Hank, “my life’s a mess,
and somebody stole my truck
I came in this bar to work up courage
to end my rotten luck.”
“I put a capsule in my whiskey;
I was watchin’ it dissolve
When you showed up & swallowed it down,
which gave me new resolve!”
“You’ve changed my luck, I feel real cheery,
now I’ll be on my way.”
The biker turned green, he started to sweat
as Hank said, “Have a nice day.”
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This the first in a six-part series of articles covering basic water law in the United States, predominately in the western part of the country, and how it affects this finite resource.