Ain’t that many cowboys
Riding off into the sunset
Lucky if they can crawl
The ground is hard
Your body ain’t
Falling can scatter your brains
Horses roll on men
Ropes cut off their thumbs
Bridles snap back into their eyes
Bulls gorge holes in guts
Hoofs break jaws and noses
Teeth kicked out, legs fractured, ribs crushed
Ankles twisted, knees torn, hands broken
Cowboy up
Ain’t always the best advice
Especially if your rope
Has too many misses in it
THE POETRY OF THE GAME