Eyen' the Bull/Tamara Hillman

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(Advice from an old bull rider to a young upstart)

Just look in them eyes-all angry an' mean,

horns juttin' out each side a his bean.

An' that hump on his neck-ya better beware,

you'll be wishin' right quick ya could hang on there.

See them huge muscles ripplin' at flank,

they got the power of a Sherman Tank.

An' don't underestimate them knobby knees—

they can turn on a dime anytime they please.

Those cloven hooves can stomp ya good

if ya ain't quick enough to scoot when ya should.

An' that mighty rear will twist 'n turn—

make ya yell for Mama when your legs start ta burn.

That boney tail, it'll swish 'n sway—

rap ya upside the head in the dust 'n fray.

He's a half ton killer-got the temper to prove it,

so hop up there, an' git right to it.

But if ya got any sense in your noggin at all,

you'll git in that truck, an' down the road you'll haul.

Just look him over, ya little son-of-a-gun,

then take off them spurs, an' run kid-run!

© 2007, Tamara Hillman

This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

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