THE FLATLANDER IN NEW YORK CITY
by Donna Penley I’m an’ ol’ flatlander from Kansas, an’ t’ New York I did go; I’ll tell ya of my adventures an’ things learned I didn’t know. Ya either walk or take a cab t’ anyplace far away; An’, better take lotsa dough if in a hotel you want t’ stay. Ya won’t understand yore driver, ‘cause most likely his name’s Singh ; He wears a turbin that hides his hair – in his ear he wears a ring. He’ll skim th’ sides o’ cars and buses – make yore hair stand right on end; You’ll swear that while goin’ 50, that cab knows how t’ bend. Ya might end up in Flatbush when ya wanted t’ go t’ Brooklyn; Th’ cabbie, he thinks it’s a joke – yore payin’ while yore lookin’. Th’ food is great, an’ really rich – but ya better take a bundle; Of money in yore pocket, or yore bankbook, it’ll crumble. An’ th’ fancy dancy restaurants don’t put prices on their menus; If yore poor enough ya have t’ ask, better choose another venue. Our food may be plain an’ simple, but I think theirs we can rival; An’ th’ best thing about beef steak an’ taters – it’s at least identifiable. Oh, I liked New York, don’t get me wrong – but I won’t go again; I like it here in good ol’ Kansas, where neighbors are yore friends. Protected By Copyright
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AuthorDonna Penley is a Cowgirl Poet with deep Kansas roots who has been writing cowboy poetry for over twenty five years. She is a real Cowgirl and an ex-barrel racer. Archives
March 2017
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