Hanque O . . . - Val Kilmer

I leave the saddle.
While I'm airborne I wonder—
will it be a day, a week, a month?

Will it be an arm, a leg, or my back?
Again.
I'm getting too old for this.

It is a pretty day, high cirrus—
cool, not yet hot,
the pastures are coming on strong.

I need to order fertilizer.
I need to get Sam shod.
I'd better line-up the vet—

it'll be time to preg the fall cows in no time.
I wonder if I'll land on a rock.
I hope I don't land on my cell.

If I do break my leg
I'll have a long way to crawl—
cell reception being what it is out here.

Somebody will have to haul me
to the hospital,
and I have to meet the school bus at three-thirty.

I wonder what we're having for dinner.
Damn, I forgot to cube the bulls.
We could use some rain,

the ground is gonna be hard.
This damn horse,
I should have sold him when I had a chance.

I thought I had the buck
worked outta him.
I guess not.

This never would have happened
to Robert Redford.
I wonder whatever happened

to Ali McGraw.
Was it Ali McGraw or Katherine Ross?
I think she moved to Santa Fe.

Ali, that is.
I could use a margeurita about now.
To hell with that—

give me a shot of the good stuff.
Make it a double.
And that guy—

the guy in Top Gun.
Not Tom Cruise, the other guy.
I read he bought a big spread outside of Tesuque.

It'll come to me.
At least my spurs didn't get hung.
Why is—oh, oh, Domino! running through my head?

Speaking of heads,
please, not the head. Not again.
Not Vin Diesel,

but something like that.
It won't be long now.
Why can't I remember his name?

They say the memory goes first.
Here it comes.
Val Kilmer.

Hanque O . . .

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/val-kilmer/