Saturday, July 23, 2016

Some hillbilly poetry

Back on May 21 here, I posted a story told by a co-worker in the employee breakroom.

Now I fancy myself a poet.

Although I have been a fan of cowboy poetry for many years, I am not a cowboy poet, for I am not a cowboy. I am just a good ole Georgia-born, Missouri-raised Ozarks boy, so I guess my poems could be called hillbilly poetry.

I got a little creative by taking the story told by my friend, Ron, and moving it out of the breakroom and into a deer camp, possibly in southern Phelps County around Edgar Springs. I've never been deer hunting with Ron, and I don't know if he drinks whiskey.  That is just embellishing and embroidering the story to have a little fun.

Well, here is the poem, dedicated to Ron Wilson and his father, Richard, a couple of mighty fine Ozarks storytellers who inspired this hillbilly poem.

WHO YOU GONNA CALL OUT IN THE STICKS?

We were sittin' around the campfire
after a day of huntin' deer.
When ole Ron took a pull on the whiskey bottle,
passed it to me and said, "Listen here,

"My dad was in Springfield the other day.
"He went to Bass Pro to look at a gun.
"And on the way back something happened
"that proved there can be a new thing under the sun.

"See, he got behind an ambulance
"coming back home on old Route 66
"when its back door blew open
"and a box flew out into a ditch among the sticks.

"The ambulance kept going,
"but dad, he stopped and got out.
"He retrieved the box from the weeds,
"opened it and gave a shout.

"For inside it was a toe!
"A human toe on ice!
"And it must have been a woman's toe for the nail,
"why it was bright red. It looked real nice."

Well, the boys all perked up at the mention of a woman,
even it was just one painted toe.
"What happened next?" gasped one of the fellers.
"Keep talking. I've got to know."

Said Ron, "Well, dad didn't know
"who to call or what to do this time.
"He did not want to call the cops,
"for there was no evidence of a crime.

"Or the fire department neither,
"for there was no flame.
"But he knew he had to do something
"or else he'd get the blame.

"So he did the next best thing he could think of
"to keep from passing the buck."
We listened intently, Ron leaned forward and said real serious,
"He went and found him a phone and called a dang toe truck!"

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