Sam Faces the Truth
By Mike Moutoux

There was a Texas cowboy, who liked to push his luck
Kept a case of beer right beside him in the truck
Sam was fun to be around, but really not too bright
“I’d carry more,” he liked to say, “but I like to travel light.”

He had a little place where he raised corriente steers
They helped pay the bills and for his Old Milwaukee beers
I was down for a visit and we talked ‘bout days gone by
“We sound like two old farts” he said, “What’s wrong with you and I?”

“Let’s saddle the horses, take a ride around the bend
‘Cause sittin’ here like this will make us old my friend.
We’ll take some beer to go, cinch the saddles good and tight
Here, take these,” he says ---two cans of Old Milwaukee Light

What he had in mind, I didn’t ask, he never told
It had to do with two old men who hated feelin’ old
Whatever it was included some good old beer drinkin’
When you think you’re gettin’ old, beer can help to stop the thinkin’

We’d gone a little ways when the herd came into sight
Javelinas with young, which inclined them all to fight
“Let’s rope one!” says Sam; a big grin was on his face
If we were lookin’ for trouble, well, we’d found the right place

“Let’s get the boar,” Sam says his piggin’ string between his teeth
“We’ll rope him and then I’ll tie him down all nice and neat.
I’ll go for the head and you heel just like we used to do”
The beer, of course, prevented us from thinking this thing through

Now Javelinas have no neck and so that loop of Sam’s
Slid right down its shoulders and circled round its hams
Well, the boar was some upset and seeking retribution
And singled out poor Sam before I could make my contribution

Like a hairy chain saw, the boar slashed this way and then that
His teeth were making popping sounds that froze me where I sat
That boar went to work with amazing speed and red-hot fury
“I’m gonna lose him,” Sam growls at me, “throw your loop--- and hurry!”

Now watching Sam’s predicament had sobered me a mite
The beast, the horse, and Sam were goin’ round in quite a fight
Sam saw me just a-watchin’ and really started to curse
But I knew that if I threw, I’d make the whole thing even worse

Now his horse was buckin’ while turning clockwise to the right
And the rope ‘tween man and beast was getting short and tight
And soon there was a coil of rope wound tight across Sam’s arms
I figured any minute now and my friend would buy the farm

“How’s it goin’ Sam?” I yelled above the growing din
“Do you think this is a fight you still have a chance to win?”
The dust was thick, the noise was loud, and so I strained to hear
“I can’t move my arms,” he yelled, “Quick, come and hold my beer!”

Just then the cinches, full of cuts, gave way with an awful sound
And the horse left Sam and pig tied together on the ground
The startled pig took off and I never saw him stop
His exit tightened the coiled rope and spun my friend--- just like a top!

His saddle was a mess; his clothes torn from boots to hat
There was a brand-new crater where poor ol’ Sam just sat
“You almost had him, Sam,” I said as sincerely as I could
“I’d like to collect my thoughts,” he said, “get my horse if you would”

I went to get Sam’s frightened horse and caught him by the reins
Returned to find my friend still in quite a bit of pain
And I’ll never forget the words he spoke whenever I reminisce
“Mike,” he said, “know what I think?  I’m getting’ told old for this!”

©Mike Moutoux 2007

Mike performs cowboy poetry at schools and festivals across the country, and will even come and serenade a camp ground or RV resort. For more about Mike Moutoux, please click here.