Kossee Boy

I’ve traveled through a whole lot of places,

that brought me a whole lot of joy.

But I guess the time I liked most,

Was when I was a Kosse Boy.

 

I poked my nose in every holler,

of every Pin-Oak I could find.

I’d twist a forked stick in a Possum’s hide,

and pull him out before he’d unwind.

 

We’d go Coon huntin’ along Steel Creek,

with an ax and a carbide light.

Chop a limb plum off; just to jump out a Coon,

so’s we could watch him and old Cooter fight.

 

I got throwed, trying to ride a Brahma bull,

and that tore me and my britches on the fence.

Then momma tore them up just a little more;

and I ain’t tried bull riding since.

 

When it comes down to eating Watermelon;

I’d eat half-a one down to the rind.

Daddy said if I could ever catch one,

I’d ear the barbs off an old Porcupine.

 

Digging worms and seining minners;

so we could all go a-fishing that night.

Baiting up our hooks on a trot line,

and a-hoping that a catfish would bite.

 

We’uz kinda poor; but, we didn’t care,

figured everybody lived that way.

Crops always seemed to turn out bad,

so we lived from day to day.

　

Biscuits and gravy for breakfast,

red beans and taters at noon.

Cornbread and buttermilk for supper,

and bedtime’s a-coming too soon.

 

I go back there ever so often,

but the home place is done fell in.

I just kinda walk around rememberin’,

and a-wishing I was a Kosse-boy again.

 

P.N.

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

13

Author's Note

Kosse Texas is a small town where i grew up in.

Reviews

[Daytonight]

I love this poem! True red neck fashion. Well done! Keep on penning.