by Once again, it’s time for Chelsea Ann Owens’ Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. The theme is Wild West.
I’m ridin’ the range
that ain’t never gonna change
with my horse named Fred
Fred is red: Red Fred.
He’s my best friend
til the very end.
We set up camp
when nighttime comes
Fred can’t help
for lack of thumbs —
but I don’t mind,
that’s common in his kind.
I cook some beans
an’ throw in some greens
while Fred eats oats
that cause him to bloat.
And later on when coyotes howl
our camp is smellin’ foul
cuz beans an’ oats make us fart
it’s methane art
an aromatic symphony.
I’m a cowboy, see?
Red Fred an’ Me.
What people think, I don’t care
Long as I got clean underwear.
Fruit of the Loom is what I like
Cuz Jockey briefs are too dang tight
for ridin’ the range —
Just outside LaGrange.
Terribly excellent!
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Thank you! 🙂
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dear lord the world is coming to an end
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Oh? Why do you say that?
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Did you read this poem? 🙂
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Not only did I read it. I *wrote” it! 🙂
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I know, I know. 🙄
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Wow! Really? This is getting to be a habit. 🙂 Thank you, Chelsea!
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I laughed so much reading this! It’s too clever to win a bad poetry contest!!
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🙂
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