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Poem

I never understand why some people
use ‘cowboy’ as if it were an insult.
I think they’d prefer somebody who
in the background cowers and sulks.
Someone who goes along to get along,
and never dares to buck and strain,
but a cowboy is a hero true,
I should not have to explain.

Some seem to think that inaction
equates to the moral high ground.
They’d tell you to sit and wait,
even as it all is burning down.
As if somehow by avoiding chance
they’ll be exempted from any pain.
But a cowboy knows that a hero acts,
I should not have to explain.

Perhaps that’s why we don’t any longer
see him ride across the silver screen.
Those who hold culture’s levers
can’t make peace with a person doing.
The idea of sovereign action,
cannot compute in their brains.
As to why cowboys are heroes,
you can never to them explain.

Th cowboy knows the sometimes
a thing has got to happen.
They strip it down and cut through
the bureaucracy that’s sapping
the strength and clarity we need
to take on the vicious and insane.
That we could use some more cowboys
I should not have to explain.

As heroes they are bound to stay,
living by codes stronger than law.
Riding, roping, saving the day,
with a cigar in their craw.
Taking on an ever wild world
from California up to Maine,
the cowboy remains a hero bold,
I should not have to explain.

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