Cowboy poet Bryce Angell

I’m short by all the standards, ‘cuz I stand at five foot three. It’s never been a problem, but today I’d disagree.

I’d driven down to Merkle’s Store to buy some brand-new jeans. Old Merkle said, “You’ll find ‘em stacked behind the pork and beans.”

I fumbled through the sizes, found a pair that fit just right. I found they all were priced the same, no matter what your height.

I’d taken economics and this wasn’t making sense. The cowboys with the longer legs weren’t sharing my expense.

My inseam’s length is 30 and that’s stretching it a bit. An inseam long as 36 would go to my armpit.

So, I did the mathematics and it wasn’t fair to me. Old Merkle reasoned, “Pants are priced right from the factory.”

Well paying more for trousers kinda stuck right in my craw. I said to Mr. Merkle, “Sir, there otta be a law.”

I’m sure that Mr. Merkle thought my mind was kinda slow. But little did he realize this cowboy’s in the know.

I vowed to get my money’s worth-not like I was a pig. I bought a pair of brand new pants four sizes extra big.

I pulled my brand-new britches on and cinched my belt up tight. Old Merkle shook his head and said, “You’re really quite a sight.”

I thanked him for the compliment. How nice of him to say. Then hiked my extra-long jeans up and headed on my way.

The bottom of my brand-new jeans was frayed by afternoon. I added twine to hold them up. What a country boy buffoon.

So, I drove back down to Merkle’s Store to get some brand-new jeans. Old Merkle stood there smiling. Said, “Behind the pork and beans.”

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