Ten Gallon Hat
I come from the borough of Queens, New York
My classmates call me a Klutz and a dork
Those names pervaded my soul, taking a toll
Being at the bottom of the totem pole.
Then Dad took me to the town of Tortilla Flat
I walked into a store, bought a ten-gallon hat
I started talking like John Wayne, also bought some boots
It’s funny how a costume can make a mind slip its roots
The ranchers nodded with respect; I looked like them
Cowgirls smiled in my direction, one shone like a gem
She said there’s a rodeo at half past three
Come join us there, my friends and me.
I said sure, I’ll mosey down there
I’ll bring some popcorn that we all can share
When the time came, I walked into the ring
But through the wrong door, that was the thing.
Two guys lifted me onto a horse, and opened the gate
I shouted, “I’m not a performer!” but it was too late
The horse bolted out, then tried a somersault
I held on for dear life, couldn’t them girls call a halt?
They told me later, t’was the worst horse in the west
I flew over its mane, but it was a personal best
The crowd went wild, but I threw the hat on the mud
Dropped all the popcorn, wiped off the blood
The cowgirl looked adoring, said “that was so cool”
I looked at her, but my mood was cruel
Said “I’m a nerd from Queens, don’t want to pretend
Keep that dang hat, this all got to end."
Dad took me home, the worse for wear
He got me a baseball hat so nobody would stare.
I put it on backwards, I don’t really care
Buy the wrong hat, and it’s dangerous out there.
Copyright © Mark Springer | Year Posted 2024
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