Me and Colt are over at Mr Stricker’s workin’ calves.

It's February which spells cold. 

Colt ropes ’em and I throw ’em.
We set to ear-taggin’ and cuttin’ bulls.
Colt gets hold of a calf and I do the knife work. 

We got an over protective mama breathin’ down our necks
and Colt says you better watch her

and I do.

Only she keeps comin’ at us.
I take a stick and bop her on the nose. 

I figure that’ll do it. It don’t. 

— 

She backs off and takes a turn. Colt says look out
but I don’t see it comin’. 

Her hind leg kicks out
and she catches me square in the back and I think I’ve been shot. 

I ain’t never felt anything like this before
and I’ll be pleased if it never comes around again.
Colt finishes the job while I catch my breath only I can’t catch it. 

Somethin’ inside ain’t right
and not to complain
but the pain damn near gets the better of me. 

We set quite a while but it don’t let up. Colt says I’m goin’ for the truck. 

—

I’m sittin’ on the cold ground in my insulated Carhartts more or less in agony. 

At the same time
it ain’t so bad.

It's winter clear

and the stars are comin' on
and it’s quiet and the wind ain’t blowin’ 

and I ain’t dead.
Colt comes on with the truck and helps me up

and we let the horses stand.

It hurts
and I say fuck
and then I say it again 

just to make myself understood.
There ain’t no mistakin’ my sentiments. 

— 

He drives easy which I appreciate
given the circumstances.
There ain’t no one around the Strickers’ 

so we head for the hospital.
I stop sayin’ fuck
on account of it bein’ repetitive. 

We don’t sit around the waitin’ room like a person’s come to expect
but they take me right into x-ray 

ignorin’ the other poor souls sittin’ there bein’ miserable.
I reckon they have a system.
They put me on a table and I apologize for the state of my boots 

but they say it don’t matter. I don’t suppose it does. 

—

It turns out I have three cracked vertebrae

and a busted rib.
I could have made that last diagnosis on my own 

but the business with the vertebrae half scares me.
The doctor says it ain’t nothin’ 

but fractures on the transverse processes and that I’ll be back to free throws
and fast-breaks before districts 

which is his way of puttin’ me at ease.
It don’t particularly
but they have a morphine drip goin’ which takes the edge off. 

I wonder why they don’t bottle that stuff and sell it down at Walmarts. 

— 

This ain’t my first trip to the hospital and it ain’t even the worst
but it’s bad enough. 

Colt’s got ahold of my parents
and they arrive
along with Regina and Mr and Mrs Stricker. 

They’re keepin’ me in the hospital for a day or two on account of I can’t hardly move
and I’m sleepy 

and there ain’t much to say
on account of Colt said look out and I didn’t. I’m thinkin’ on the situation 

and don’t draw any grand conclusions
except maybe I’d be smart to look out when a man says look out.