Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Monday, February 27, 2017

Dimming the Bright Lights

Mondays are for poetry!
Can you think of a better way to start the week?
And what subject could be more fun than one of Dad's favourite stories?!
Ready?
Go!


The movie flashed and flickered on the silver picture screen,
The movie-goers hoped it’d be the best they’d ever seen.
But one cowboy seemed determined on disturbing one and all,
And laying out across three seats in a mean and thoughtless sprawl.

When Usher—with his usher’s light—was directed to him there,
He said, “My man, you’ll have to move! You cannot have three chairs!”
“And I really do not care if you are drunk, or stoned, or ill.”
“This ain’t the way that things are done, even here in ol’ Hicksville.”

His light showed him a quiet face, with cowboy hat askew,
He said, “You understand, my man? You’ll simply have to move.”
But the cowboy just ignored him, clearly would not be dethroned.
And though the usher gave him time, he didn’t talk, he groaned.

The usher straightened with a huff, and management, he sought,
Returning with his boss would give that cowboy food for thought!
When Usher and his boss came back, primed and prepared to teach.
The cowboy still used up three chairs and groaned in lieu of speech.

The manager reached out and tapped the cowboy on the arm,
He said, “Young man, we are not bad and don’t mean any harm.”
“But what the usher said is true. You must vacate this place.”
“He wasn’t being foul, it’s just: We simply need the space!”

If he thought that his proposals, soon the cowboy would apply,
He must admit the end result did not quite satisfy.
For though he spoke with kindly mien and quiet, gentle tone,
The cowboy did not move and only answered in a groan.

The cowboy did exasperate, t’was not their sought outcome.
Said Usher, “What’s your name, my man, and where did you come from?”
“I’m Joe,” the cowboy said to them, with next to no esprit.
Then he raised a hand and pointed. “I came from the balcony!” 

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18 comments:

  1. Lol!! I prefer poetry that makes me laugh!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Me, too, Laura! Especially on a Monday morning! :)

      Delete
  2. This is just Great! Got me. I could not write poetry if my life depended on it!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Haralee!
      Deal. I'll write. You read! :)

      Delete
  3. HaHaHaHa!!!!!! That was hilarious. It reminds me when we were getting seated in the Saddledome for the Kenney Chesney concert. A drunk fell from the row above us and landed on the row below us. Needless to say he didn't see the show....

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yikes. Or just saw a totally different show . ..

      Delete
  4. That is funny! (assuming it didn't happen in real life, although George's comment indicates it has - eek) Well done, Diane! I forgot about poetry Monday again! Maybe I need a poetry Tuesday instead ... and I will definitely be writing a poem or two in April because it's Poetry Month!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You can totally have a poetry Tuesday, Jenny! Now I'm looking forward to April!

      Delete
  5. OMG! I love this..did it really happen...I almost hope it did...is that wrong?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. When Dad first told me the story, I was so wrapped up in it. Until he got to the punch line. Sigh.

      Delete
  6. An author and a blogger AND a poet - you are the complete package Diane :)

    ReplyDelete
  7. Haha! I never saw that one coming! Hilarious!

    ReplyDelete
  8. From the balcony! Oh dear! another good poem, thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Poor guy...call an ambulance. Another terrific poem. Sorry I wasn't here on Monday to read and comment (thank goodness I preposted mine I've had no internet for three days. Get well cards will be gratefully accepted.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I didn't know you were ill! I'm so sorry to hear it. Consider this your GET WELL SOON card!

      Delete

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