I know it sounds simple but it's true....writers, write.
It's what we do. It could be a song, it could be a short story or magazine article or even a letter to an
old friend. And sometimes its poetry. From time to time we are going to add some of my poetry to the web page. I certainly hope you enjoy it.
There's a new breed of cowboy out on the range; those that have seen 'em admit that he's strange.
Why he'll reign up his mount and whip out his phone and say excuse me fellers but I got to call home;
they're installing a new dish out in the back; I got to check my email and I'm expecting a fax.
Don't worry 'bout those strays boys, relax, you ain't missed 'em, I got 'em pinpointed on my global positioning satellite system. It's a right handy gizmo and what could be sweeter than the location of every cow down to three point five meters.
And it's about your horses...'fraid you've ridden your last; we're trading hay burners in for ones that burn gas.
Four wheel drive, knobby tired, electric startin' Suzuki quad 350's with a luggage rack, padded seat, headlight and all. And if you can find a way to hold on you can climb a brick wall.
And another thing, if you ain't got the word, we've hired on a genetic engineer buckaroo type to clone the whole herd. All the same color, all the same weight, guaranteed uniform flavor when it gets to your plate. Ain't this modern technology great?
Now I know you cowboys are reluctant to change but wait 'til you ride on that virtual range. Computer generated wranglin', it's truly high tech, you can castrate calves or have a big wreck; you won't even get dirty and ya won't risk your neck.
And to go along with all the savings in labor we're outfittin you all with beepers and pagers. We're riding out boys for that new millennium. It's gonna be megahertz, gigabytes, Windows and Pentium. It's websites, not campsites, we're changing our pace so let's all sing along to "Ghost Riders in Cyberspace."
There's a new breed of cowboy out on the range and those that have seen him will tell you he's strange. But it's my prediction he's headed for grief; cause you can't feed a hungry nation on virtual reality beef.