{"id":164,"date":"2008-04-22T09:09:10","date_gmt":"2008-04-22T08:09:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/2008\/04\/22\/inpm-22-the-flyin-outlaw\/"},"modified":"2016-12-10T10:55:48","modified_gmt":"2016-12-10T09:55:48","slug":"inpm-22-the-flyin-outlaw","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/2008\/04\/22\/inpm-22-the-flyin-outlaw","title":{"rendered":"INPM #22: The Flyin’ Outlaw"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"icon\u00c2\u00a0 The Flyin’ Outlaw<\/strong><\/p>\n

Come gather ’round me, cowboys,
\nAnd listen to me close
\nWhilst I tells yuh ’bout a mustang
\nThat must uh been a ghost.<\/p>\n

Yah mighta heard of a Cayuse*
\nIn the days they called ’em steed,
\nThat spent his time with eagles
\nAnd only come down fer his feed.<\/p>\n

He goes by the name of Pegasus,
\nHe has himself wings to fly;
\nHe eats and drinks in the Bad Lands,
\nAnd ranges around in the sky.<\/p>\n

Seems he belongs to an outfit,
\nSome sisters, The Muses, they say,
\nAnd they always kep ‘im in hobbles
\nTill he busts ’em and gets away.<\/p>\n

Fer years they tries hard to ketch ‘im,
\nBut he keeps right on runnin’ free;
\nThe riders wore way to much clothes then,
\nCowboys was knights then, yuh see.<\/p>\n

He bears a bad reputation,
\nI don’t sabe* how to begin,
\nPart eagle, part horse, and a devil;
\nThey claims that he’s meaner than sin.<\/p>\n

I’m a-ridin’ that rimrock country
\nUp there around Wild Horse Springs,
\nAnd I like to fell out uh my saddle
\nWhen that bronk sails in on his wings.<\/p>\n

I feels like I must be plumb crazy,
\nAs I gazes up over a bank,
\nA-watchin’ that albino mustang
\nUh preenin’ his wings as he drank.<\/p>\n

Finally he fills up with water.
\nWings folded, he starts in to graze,
\nAnd I notice he’s headin’ up my way
\nWhere I straddle my horse in a daze.<\/p>\n

And then I comes to, all excited,
\nMy hands is a-tremblin’ in hope,
\nAs I reaches down on my saddle
\nAnd fumbles a noose in my rope.<\/p>\n

Ready, I rides right out at him
\nSpurrin’ and swingin’ my loop
\nBefore he can turn and get going
\nI throws-and it fits like a hoop.<\/p>\n

I jerks out the slack and I dallies,
\nI turn and my horse throws him neat,
\nAnd he lets out a blood curdlin’ beller
\nWhile I’m at him hogtyin’ his feet.<\/p>\n

I puts my hackamore* on him,
\nAnd a pair uh blinds on his eyes;
\nI hobbles his wings tight together
\nSo he can’t go back to the skies.<\/p>\n

I lets him up when he’s saddled,
\nMy cinch is sunk deep in his hide;
\nI takes the slack out uh my spur straps
\n‘Cause it looks like a pretty tough ride.<\/p>\n

I crawls him just like he was gentle,
\nI’m a little bit nervous, you bet;
\nI feels pretty sure I can ride ‘im,
\nI still has his wings hobbled yet.<\/p>\n

I raises the blinds and he’s snortin’,
\nThen moves like he’s walkin’ on eggs;
\nHe grunts and explodes like a pistol;
\nI see he’s at home on his legs.<\/p>\n

Wolves, and panthers, and grizzlies,
\nCentipedes, triantlers, and such;
\nScorpions, snakes, and bad whiskey
\nCompared to him wasn’t much.<\/p>\n

I got a deep seat in the saddle
\nAnd my spurs both bogged in the cinch;
\nI don’t aim to take any chances,
\nI won’t let him budge an inch.<\/p>\n

He acts like he’s plumb full uh loco,
\nJust ain’t got a lick uh sense;
\nHe’s a weavin’ and buckin’ so crooked
\nThat I thinks of an Arkansaw fence.<\/p>\n

I’m ridin’ my best and I’m busy
\nAnd trouble a-keepin’ my seat;
\nHe didn’t need wings fer flyin’,
\nHe’s handy enough on his feet.<\/p>\n

He’s got me half blind and I weaken,
\nHe’s buckin’ around in big rings;
\nBesides which he kep me a-guessin’,
\nA-duckin’, and dodgin’ his wings.<\/p>\n

By golly he starts gettin’ rougher,
\nHe’s spinnin’ and sunfishin’, too.
\nI grabs me both hands full uh leather;
\nI’m weary and wishin’ he’s through.<\/p>\n

He hits on the ground with a twister
\nThat broke the wing hobbles, right there;
\nBefore I can let loose and quit him,
\nWe’re sailin’ away in the air.<\/p>\n

He smoothes out and keeps on a climbin’
\nTill away down, miles below,
\nI gets me a look ay the mountains
\nAnd the peaks all covered with snow.<\/p>\n

Up through the clouds, I’m a-freezin’,
\nPlumb scared and I’m dizzy to boot;
\nI sure was a-wishin’ I had me
\nThat thing called a parachute.<\/p>\n

And then I musta gone loco,
\nOr maybe I goes sound asleep,
\n‘Cause when I wakes up I’m a-layin’
\nRight down on the ground in a heap.<\/p>\n

He may uh had wings like an angle,
\nAnd he may uh been light on his feet,
\nBut he oughta had horns like the devil
\nAnd a mouth fit fer eatin’ raw meat.<\/p>\n

I’ve lost a good saddle and bridle,
\nMy rope and some other good things,
\nBut I’m sure glad to be here to tell yuh
\nTo stay off uh horses with wings.<\/p>\n

– Curley Fletcher<\/a><\/p>\n

*Cayuse; an unruly, lazy, or wild horse
\n*sabe; or “savvy,” from the Spanish saber,
\nto know or understand
\n*hackamore; from the Spanish jaquima, a halter
\nwith reins, usually used with a bosal
\n(braided rawhide noose) rather than a bit<\/small><\/p>\n

Overview: (Inter-)National Poetry Month 2008 \u00c2\u00bb<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u00c2\u00a0 The Flyin’ Outlaw Come gather ’round me, cowboys, And listen to me close Whilst I tells yuh ’bout a mustang That must uh been a ghost. Yah mighta heard of a Cayuse* In the days they called ’em steed, … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":194,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[38,211],"class_list":["post-164","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-junomagic","tag-international-poetry-month","tag-poems"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/164","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/194"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=164"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/164\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12013,"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/164\/revisions\/12013"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=164"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=164"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=164"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}