The Cowpoke They Called Wayne

September 28, 2009 at 2:03 pm (Humour, Poetry)

He was the cowpoke they called Wayne
who some folks considered a pain,
others asked, where’s his brain?
His doc said, he’s insane.
But as far as living failures went,
he was considered one of the best
and he decided he’d be a-aheadin’ west.

So he saddled up his saddlebag
and climbed up on his horse
took a look at his compass
and decided to set course.

Westward ho! he went,
banjo somewhat bent,
he soon stumbled on a mountain pass,
he surveyed the scene while scratching his ass.

Look! There’s a tunnel there!
he said to his horse, Tiddlesquare.
Get along little Tiddle!
He played his fiddle
as his horse took a piddle.

Soon they arrived at the tunnel dark,
he found his horse a place to park
and then Wayne entered the tunnel dark
Should have brought a match
to add some spark
and a dash of light
this place’s a fright
said Wayne in the midst of this dark tunnel,
so dark, he had to pee using a funnel.

And then Wayne gave a shout of delight
for he suddenly saw a big bright light,
there was light at the end of this tunnel,
Wayne jumped for joy
before he did stumble,
his life flashed
like a clog down the drain.
For the light at the end of the tunnel
was the light from the east bound train.

-The Cowpoke They Called Wayne
A cowboy poem
written by Dracul Van Helsing
Monday, September 28th, 2009.

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Jack O’Hare

September 24, 2009 at 3:32 pm (Personal essays) (, )

Jack O’ Hare is the name I’ve given the wild jack rabbit who lives in my back yard.

He’s lived in the back yard for the past 3 or 4 years now.

He hangs out all over the neighbourhood but my back yard seems to be his home.

He’ll occasionally watch me through the basement window while I’m downstairs working on my computer.

And he also seems to follow me whenever I walk the four blocks to my local neighbourhood pub.

He may do it in the summer but I can’t tell. However in the winter I can see his tracks in the snow.

A couple of nights ago when my dad and I got home from shopping, he was standing in the middle of the road a couple of doors down from our house with his big ears sticking up in the middle of the air.

I was hoping he wasn’t suicidally depressed and the reason he was standing in the middle of the road wasn’t because he was hoping a car would drive over him and end it all for him, his last words being, “This bunny wabbit can no longer stand the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.”

But no he’s still alive.

Yesterday on a 32 degrees Celsius day, I looked through the kitchen window about 5:30 PM and saw him resting under the shadow of one of the apple trees in the back yard no doubt grateful to get out of the hot blazing sun.

So Jack O’ Hare is alive and well.

And all is right with the world.

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