THOSE GATES  (subtitled Jeans Too Tight)

 

By Katie Maddox

 

 

 

“I’ll get the gate!”—Oh, blessed sound

Which keeps my feet up off the ground

And in the stirrups, their proper use,

And, in the saddle, my caboose.

 

Why, oh, why must they sag and scrape

And thereby hamper our escape??

The bolts don’t fit into the holes,

So we must lift up on the poles.

 

With all our might we hoist and push

And try to get the timing right,

Cause if you get into a rush

It only will prolong the fight.

 

And oh, those gates of barbed wire—

How they do provoke my ire!

Your fingers are in danger mortal

When you try to close this portal.

 

I like those gates that freely swing

And simply latch with slot or snap.

To these my horse’s skills I’d bring.

Together we could bridge the gap.

 

Those other gates will bear the curse

That can’t be got from back of horse!