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ARBUCKLES IN THE CUP
It was genuine Cowboy Coffee he had in that cup
And that tells you most of what you need to know
He had his standards from the old-school club
Premium java, not Coors or Michelob.
It was Hermann Oak leather he put on those soles
And that says more than words alone
It had to be the best even if the boots were old
He was one of a kind with no way to clone
Whether he was driving a Cadillac or an old pickup truck
You always knew which way he was going
On the right path regardless of others in the bunch
No matter the amount of their groaning or crowing.
He called her "Lady" even though she was only a canine
His customs & manner say more than any words can
Rough on the outside but inside - nothing but high-gloss shine
And that says a lot about the measure of the man
In years past he wore a badge on his chest
But boots and saddles were his trade in the end
And to know him all these years - who would have guessed
I'm the lucky one - to have called him friend
A man, a century out of date, is a rare find
A treasured friendship over in two blinks and a flicker
Bonded over horseflesh, cowhide and Arbuckles grind
And by the way, I never said thanks for my chinks and slicker?
© 2020 Brian McNeal
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WHY A COWBOY WON'T DRINK FRENCH PRESS
It sounds just a bit too sissy
Or maybe even too swishy
A cowboy with a brew of French Press
Would be like a guy wearing a girl's dress
Cowboys will drink Arbuckles or Maxwell House
Even Montana's Moose Drool or Piñon Juice from Taos
It's not just the name that makes a cowboy shy
There's another reason why
The way a cowboy brews his coffee in a pot
Has a lot to do with the taste it's got
It's easy to lift the lid and take a gander
And it works if you're a desert rat or a highlander
Now if you take a look at the French Press contraption
You'll see there's no way a cowboy could get satisfaction
The way it works, it just can't make a strong enough brew
And how the heck would you ever float a horseshoe?
No, the real reason is that little lid that's all dark inside
It's the perfect place for things to hide
Once a cowboy has had enough and drunk his fill
Finding a dead tarantula in the lid is a real buzzkill.
© 2024 Brian McNeal
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THE DEMITASSE COWBOY
There was five of us sittin' 'round the fire
Pecos, Rusty, Shorty, me and Sean McGuire
Up rode Jitters, a cowboy hired as the cook
The last to be hired, said he'd read the book
His vittles weren't half bad, more like seventy five percent
But his cowboy coffee had more'n 'nuff content
Thick and hot - he called it cowboy caviar
But the rest of us called it liquified tar
So here the five of us are palaverin'
Money on the blanket, we're wagerin'
"What's he gonna shovel down our gullets now?"
Whatever it was, not a one of us would kowtow
Then out of his saddlebags came five thimble-sized coffee tins
We all got big smiles and started to count our wins
To think we wouldn't have to drink no more than that little amount
Was a first-class culinary dismount
Of course we didn't let on about our joy
We teased him some though about the size of his toy
What cowboy could even get his finger in that tiny little hole?
And what else could a cowboy use for control?
Jitters took our jibes as serious inquiries
He said, "boys, let me tell ya a bit 'bout these here mysteries"
"They're the latest thing from France"
"And since you boy's don't like my coffee, I thought, you'd at least give this a chance"
"These little bitty cups are called Demitasses"
"They're small but what goes in 'em is for the higher classes"
"It's a more potent coffee, something they call espresso"
"Just one shot and you'll be rarin' to go"
Well, next morn, Jitters made his hi-octane brew
To a man, each of us sprayed him with an espresso spew
Spittin' and cussin' like we hadn't oughter
"Who's the wise guy who diluted the coffee with ten times the water?"
"I've had bath water darker'n this," said Pecos
Rusty added, "This stuff ain't worth two pesos"
Sean just grabbed that pot off the fire and calmly walked away
We wondered why we got an extra ten miles outta the horses that day.
Later, Jitters was turnin' everything upside down
Couldn't find his coffee pot, he'd have to get a new one in town
Rusty grinned and said, "check the water trough Cooky, I think it's still soakin' clean"
"And never make no more, that stuff was obscene”
After that, anytime the boss hired a new hand
If he started to say somethin' bout the coffee brand
Someone would elbow his side real quick, like so
Told him how blessed he was not to be drinkin' that water'd down French espresso
© 2024 Brian McNeal
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THE WORST WE'VE SEEN
Raging flames spread across the prairie dry.
Winds whipping up embers to the western sky.
Firefighters on the line beating out the flames.
Some just in their teens. Texas mothers whisper their names.
Everyone hoped the worst would never come.
But fate had other plans. The news was glum.
Texas Smokehouse Creek up by the OK border.
A million acres of ranchland out of order.
Ranch trucks hurriedly converted to fire trucks.
Evacuated people gathered in conflux.
Impossible to describe the devastation.
Impossible to use one's imagination.
Cattle fenced-in with no place to go.
First one drops then the next, then domino.
Five hundred families displaced.
An entire cattle industry erased.
Fire over an area larger than a small state.
Still spreading with conditions opening the gate.
The worst fire in history is what they say.
Everyone hoping to see a better day.
God made a promise never to bring the rain again
But he made another promise - one he would not feign
This world of ours could be lessor or it could be greater
Could this be a warning from the Creator?
...
© 2024 Brian McNeal
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CUPPA GO
There's daylight time and tea time and the right time
But never a wrong time to have a cup of coffee, in my mind
Anytime is a good time for me to partake
A steaming Cup-a-Joe with a slice of chocolate cake
Java Lava brewed in precise measurements
Fresh ground by hand or scientific instruments
Boiled in a pot over the fire with an egg shell inside
Never say never for a chance to imbibe
Bean Juice, Jitter Juice, Morning Jolt or Morning Brew
A good cup of coffee gives the world a better hue
Any way you like it, spike it or drink it straight
"Cause without it, you're sure to be last out the gate
French Press if you guess you'd like to ascertain
Watch it brew till you're through, then start the strain
A Caffeine Fix for a Java junkie in need
Mojo Go-Go Juice in a styrofoam cup indeed
Pour that water over the Worm Dirt and wait
In just a while you'll have a spring in your gait
Mud in the pot. Black Gold in the cup
Brew a double batch for emergency backup
High Test, Rocket Roast or the chemical formula
Give it a slang or use it's real name down in Florida
Whether you pour it or need to slice it with a knife,
Regrdless of what it's called, coffee is the Elixer of Life
There's daylight time and tea time and the right time
But never a wrong time to have a cup of coffee, in my mind
Anytime is a good time for me to partake
A steaming Cup-a-Joe with a slice of chocolate cake
Java Lava brewed in precise measurements
Fresh ground by hand or scientific instruments
Boiled in a pot over the fire with an egg shell inside
Never say never for a chance to imbibe
Bean Juice, Jitter Juice, Morning Jolt or Morning Brew
A good cup of coffee gives the world a better hue
Any way you like it, spike it or drink it straight
"Cause without it, you're sure to be last out the gate
French Press if you guess you'd like to ascertain
Watch it brew till you're through, then start the strain
A Caffeine Fix for a Java junkie in need
Mojo Go-Go Juice in a styrofoam cup indeed
Pour that water over the Worm Dirt and wait
In just a while you'll have a spring in your gait
Mud in the pot. Black Gold in the cup
Brew a double batch for emergency backup
High Test, Rocket Roast or the chemical formula
Give it a slang or use it's real name down in Florida
Whether you pour it or need to slice it with a knife,
Regrdless of what it's called, coffee is the Elixer of Life
© 2025 Brian McNeal
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THE GHOSTS AT 770
As soon as you move into a house previously occupied
Certain things become evident when the home has a guide
Who lived here before, and what happened? Do tell
"I lived here," he said. "And it wasn't me who wanted to sell."
An angry ghost will let you know how wrong you are
When items are rearranged or a closed door is ajar
Ours tells us over and over that he was a smoker
Now he's a Ghost-brand coffin nail, cancer choaker
We also know that he had an indoor cat who was bitter
Especially when no one supplied her with fresh litter
The cat pee odor can permeate the house
With a smell worse than that of a dead mouse
Strange noises that can't be identified day and night,
Mean the ghoul and his wife are having a fight
Now ain't that a frightful thought to ponder and grouse
Livin' with a spook and his spouse in the same house
Two ghosts in a spat over changin' the box for the cat,
Puffin' away on their invisible nicotine noodles at that
Tossin' our stuff around and makin' a mess, it's a wonder
That they don't leave their sheets in a pile for us to launder
They sleep most every day while we're away
And then come out at night to dance and play
The encounters with our friends are marked with brevity
Between we, and the ghosts, who all live at seven seventy
© 2025 Brian McNeal
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