William called for a poem, and Cowboy Dan started scratching. Here's what he came up with. He says it's his own take on Johnny Keats "La Belle Dame sans Merci" - (I guess Johnny put that in French cause everyone knows they're more fairy-fied, which, in my opinion, is a good thing.) Anyways, C.D. says that there's always one cow that is the trouble starter in a herd, ain't that the truth, and they always get the best of you. That's why he titled his CD "The Best of Cowboy Dan", cause the best had already been gotten of him. I always wondered what that bulge in his saddlebag was. Turns out it's a copy of The Norton Anthology of English Literature. Who knew. But Cowboy Dan says, just like my dad did, usually about a pie, that, "A thing of beauty is a joy forever."
As to William's 3rd request, about piracy, Cowboy Dan said, "I take a bath once ever 6 months whether I need it or not, and that's the closest I'm going to the water." (Six months can't come too soon if you're bunking with him.) I put this in the comments first, cause he wasn't sure if it was worth posting up front, but here is...
THE CUSSED COW:
O what ails you, Cowboy,
alone on the trail loafing?
The sage has withered on your knoll
and no coyote sings.
O again I say, what ails you, Dan
so haggard and woebegone?
The prarie dog has stuffed his cheeks
and the cattle drive is done.
I see lily on your brow
and anguished sweat like burnt off dew,
your cheek's not as rosy as your nose
and that's dried up too.
I met a Cow on the range,
as pretty as a fairy calf,
her switch was long, her loins were lean,
and her eyes were glassed.
I threw a lasso at her head,
tried for a foot, got it too,
she looked at me as I roped her down
I tied her lead to my trusty stead
and saw nothing else the whole day thru
but her sidelong glance, as she led me on
with that low and erie moo.
Till all that mooing lulled me so
Asleep I fell and down did go
out of the saddle to Cowboy Hell
and this is the sorry story I tell
I saw all the Cowboys that ever were
as pale as ghosts and and cussed as curs
and all as one they raised a yell
"That damned cow has led you straight to Hell!"
I saw their gloomy mugs for whiskey cry
their eyes were red, their throats were dry,
and when I waked, twas on the dirt,
horse and cow both gone, and I was hurt.
And that is why I'm loafing here,
rubbing Parker's salve on my butt that stings,
tho the sage is withered on the plain,
and no coyote sings.