Road Grader Roundup

                                                 Road Grader Roundup 

                                                         by Trey Poage


Five bulls left in a ten-section pasture

All turned three in the spring of last year


Of all the meanest, they were the worst

Their natural-born enemy: a man on a horse


Six thousand vertical acres of rock and cat-claw

It’s a wonder they hadn’t missed them all


High heeled boots they didn’t wear

But they could rope a lion and tie a bear


‘Cause lack of punch don’t mean lack of poke

Just ask those who know the Fowlkes


Horses and mules and sixty-foot ropes

And reckless abandon was their only hope


Got to get those bulls in tow

‘Cause in the gathering they’d always blow


The men all mounted on their trustworthy snides

All true and honest rides


And Clegg on his beloved Roan

With a heart of gold and feet of stone


On the hunt, looking to find

They’d have to get them one at a time


Peque shook out a loop and caught a neck

But then the deal went to heck


He dallied up and put on the brakes

Heeler misses, off the bull makes


He finally gets the wraps undone

Cowboys nothing; Bulls 1


Such is the morning and early afternoon

At lunch the trailer still has lots of room


But this bunch is made of heart

They won’t quit till death or dark


Clegg remounts and sees a tail

And Roanie is soon on the trail


At the end of the rope, the bull doubles back

There is no time in which to react


The horn sinks deep, a killing blow

Roanie’s dead and Clegg’s heart is low


He says, “Boys these horses aren’t enough,

If we’re gonna get ‘em, we got to play rough


Let’s quit for now and come back later,

And drag ‘em out with that old road grader.”


Next morning, like he said

He got Ole Yeller out of the shed


Splintering saplings and vaporizing cacti

Keep them hosses out the way of this Cat, guys!


Turn ‘em back and bring ‘em to the blade

Tie ‘em off and you’ve got it made


Horses lame and getting lamer

From dragging those bulls to that old maintainer


As for the rest, it worked like a charm

Next stop, El Paso sale barn


One bull no-one would buy

After he crawled up and gored the auctioneer’s thigh


Thank goodness he didn’t get any higher

Goodbye bull, hello Oscar Meyer


The rest, however would not leave him lonely

They, too, would soon be baloney


Except for one who caught the eye of a buyer

‘Cause the hump on his back was a little bit higher


That December he was at the Thomas & Mack

With an unlucky roughie strapped to his back


He got there ‘cause he’d won twenty times twice

And the guys in the chutes had the advice


Keep your mind in the middle and on each side, a leg

If you aim to cover the outlaw bull, Clegg



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