Wild And Woolly Minded Poem by Mary Champion

1986

[A tribute to Ronald Reagan - although the Stetson fits George W even better]

The cowboy rode into the city,
the baddies all made him see red,
adjusting his white hat a little,
he vowed he would see them all dead.
'All o' then red commie greasers,
who think they'll run me off mah land,
is in fer a few big surprises.
A man who's a man's gotta stand,
stand up an' fight fer his country,
his wimmin, his kids an' his friends.
an' I is a man, sure and shootin'
so fightin' is what I intends'

The cowboy rode into the city,
convinced he was really John Wayne,
winning the West and the war-games,
inflicting his celluloid pain.
But this was real life, so the 'injuns'
had arrows that really drew blood
and each time he squeezed on a trigger,
it spat lethal lead, not a dud.

He marshalled a posse to help him
and set out to fight for the West.
Galloping over the prairie,
he followed the star on his chest.
He picked out the tracks and the traces;
a foot print, a discarded shoe.
But some were as old as the ages
and some were as fresh as the dew.

He knew they would make for the river
and he'd have to catch them before
they hightailed it over the border,
and got out of reach of the law.

He thought he could see the way clearly,
but he got confused by the corn,
and the river he finally rode to
is known as the Little Big Horn.
Convinced he was making a comeback
beside of the Old Rio Grande,
he faced Sitting Bull and directed
a remake of Custer's Last Stand