COWBOY POETRY: The Grinnin’ Skunk

Bryce Angell is a cowboy poet. Angell was raised on a farm/ranch in the St. Anthony, Idaho area with approximately 75 head of horses. Horses remain an important part of Angell's life. Angell shares his poetry with Cache Valley Daily every Friday.

I chose a spot down by the creek and backed my camper in.  A jagged tree limb snagged the roof and tore right through the tin.

Now, the weatherman’s prediction was there ain’t a chance of rain.  So, I didn’t bother fixin’ the new hole in my domain.

I lit my Coleman lantern.  ‘Twas so dark I couldn’t see.  Then the noise of runnin’ water told my bladder, “Time to pee!”

I hopped down from my trailer, held my lantern up to see.  Then promptly stopped dead in my tracks.  A skunk was eyein’ me.

The ball of furry black and white sat straight back on his heels.  I couldn’t move a muscle just stood blurtin’ tiny squeals.

I swear the doggone, stinkin’ polecat grinned from ear to ear.  No doubt he’d tried this trick before.  He prob’ly sensed my fear.

He almost seemed quite friendly but I ain’t no stupid clunk.  Don’t ever trust these varmints.  ‘Cuz they’ve earned the name of skunk.

I turned around and made the dash, the fastest five-yard run.  The skunk lit in behind me.   He was havin’ all the fun.

I opened up the camper door and slammed it after me.  But I hadn’t solved the problem.  I still needed to go pee.

That’s when I saw the lightnin’.  Heard the crackin’ thunderclap.  It was gonna be a down pour.  I’m a one sure sorry sap.

I peered out through the window.  Couldn’t see the little guy.  So, I nudged the door an inch or two.   The pungent squirt flew by.

The smell was so horrific.  Made the snot run out my nose.  A dang good thing I ducked.  That stuff shot like a garden hose.

The rain was comin’ sideways.  Talk about the weatherman.  He prob’ly got his education from the boogey man.

Well, I’ve had enough of campin’.  No more skunk and dumpin’ rain.   If you ever see me back again, you’ll know I’ve gone insane.

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