Cowpokes and Poets Boxy Tee

Ol' cowboy Ed wasn't much use on the cattle drive. Real broody sorta feller, and mighty creepy at night round the campfire. He sure could turn a phrase though. Not sure what caused him to become ill...we just chalked it up to the dysentery. Buried him just outside Wichita clutching the last thing he ever scribbled: Lo, my heart lies black 'Neath atmosphere so blue; For I loathe each pitiful morning  When I hear the cow moo. By golly, I miss that weirdo.