Maultiergedicht ("The Mule Whisperer")

[Beate]

The Mule Whisperer

It was Saturday night and I was downin' a few at the Spotted Horse saloon.
A heavy set gent at the piano was playin' a honkytonk tune.
Four men at the back of the bar were dealin' a game of stud.
The barkeep was wipin' glasses and chawin' on a cud.

Out of the dark and into the light a man stepped through the door.
Then, he bellied up to the bar and told the man to pour.
He downed a shot of whiskey and then turned around to me.
He claimed that he broke horses and was as good as would ever be.

The man claimed he broke them by whisperin' in their ear.
Just a little bit of sweet talk would take away their fear.
For most of that whole evenin' he taught me how it was done.
I learned the art of whisperin' and how a horse's heart is won.

I broke mules for the army at a nearby army post.
One old mule I was breakin' was a whole lot meaner than most.
At daybreak the next mornin' I snubbed that mule up tight.
That old mule had a wild stare and he was lookin' for a fight.

I figured it'd be real easy if I used that whisperin' art.
A little bit of sweet talkin' would win that old mule's heart.
I walked right up beside him and I whispered in his ear.
I said the things that I was taught to calm a horse's fear.

I guess the mule didn't hear me cuz he bit me on the cheek.
It felt like a blow from a hammer and made my knees go weak.
That got me to thinkin' it must've been somethin' I said.
This time when I whispered, I'd stroke that old mule's head.

I staggered up beside him and I stroked his scrubby mane.
A forward kick to the groin and my whole body was in pain.
I slithered to the ground in too much pain to cry.
I'd have to heal up some to be well enough to die.

I knew there had to be a way to touch this mule's heart.
I also knew the only way was through the whisperin' art.
I hobbled both his front legs and then hobbled both in back.
I snubbed him tight up to a post and took in all the slack.

I figured he was tied so tight there was no way I'd get hurt.
When I whispered in his ear this time, I wouldn't bite the dirt.
I looked up at the sky and the stars danced heel and toe.
It was time to see if this mule would be my friend or foe.

With the mule snubbed up and hobbled, I started whisperin' in his ear.
I talked on and the mule listened but he just didn't seem to hear.
He brayed and squealed and pulled 'til the snubbin' rope was cut.
That sorry mule spun like a top and kicked me in the gut.

This mule was close to killin' me and I was whisperin' like some clown.
Right then, I made a solemn vow, this mule was goin' down.
I kicked that mule in the belly and he squealed like he'd been shot.
I figured he could whip me but he'd know that he'd been fought.

I ripped off an old corral post and busted it in two.
Then, I smacked that mule between the eyes and gave him what was due.
It put him to his knees and both his eyes went crossed.
I figured from the way he looked that this old mule had lost.

I've been wrong many times before but never quite so bad.
He made it back to his feet and dang that mule was mad.
He kicked, he bit, he brayed and squealed, you could hear it for a mile.
When the whole thing came to a finish, he left me in a pile.

That mule proved he was crazy, when he jumped a ten foot fence.
I watched him runnin' in the moonlight and I haven't seen him since.
Along life's rocky, winding road I learned one simple rule.
Whisperin' might work on horses, but it sure as hell don't work on a mule.

© Verlin Pitt

[B]