Welcome to True Chili’s Cowboy Literature. As with our other endeavors, it has been a long road. But we hope you enjoy reading these stories and poems as much as we did selecting them. So, kick off your boots and welcome to our campfire.
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August alwasys seems to be a time for relaxing. Rodeos, romping, camping, riding and fishing. Also writing. Here are some
That’s the way it happened —driving into Death Valley,a crazy idea of escape fromlife – divorce and all Death Valley
The village priest, Padre Puebla, was in a panic. The Bandit General was on his way to ravish his village.
At night on the road,after 10 days alone,I find an old hoboin a ditch laying prone;He’s a drunk and a
“Man, that guy’s bullshit is getting old fast,” Tex Tai Chi said to his buddy Zack Pasadena at the bar
Working hardTil I’m tiredOn my spreadThat’s where I’ll stayNo more fencesNo pretensesThat’s my goalOn this fine day Watch the sunriseWait
Now a cowboy is a real kind of man,A dying breed, one who just shouldn’t be caged;But has to be
In the center of town, there was a trickle of a shadow, and a wavering in the dirt on the
“The day President Harding died, Paul picked meup in his Ford Model A Pickup. We workedthe gold mine near Franklin
“Ruben’s going with us to town again tonight James.” “Again Stu? Why? All he did last week was
Rose came to my grave every Friday except the thirteenth. She came before it was light so she could
departed had he, long awayfarrago, but saved the town:he’d booted out the cutthroats,would not marry the widow. Bruce Robinson divides
At first glancethe prairie is boring.Face it,it's flat.No oceans, no mountainsjust grasseverywhere you look.It's so boring you eventuallylook up.And then
It’s the screams that wake me. Once I’m awake, it’s sort of routine. Next there’s mother’s voice shushing him. Then
Irish face cloth she left drying on the line in the summer sunHer smile left hanging on the endless Montana’s
2022 was a chaotic year as you all know. Certainly not one I would describe as quiet here in Arizona.
Yesterday, these planks were just planks. Today, they are just steps. Not even sanded or stained. Not that anyone in
A cowboy works hard almost every daysunrise to sunset and beyond,but come Saturday night— it’s time to play. He mends
The heart wants / her horses back—Ada Limon Everywhere a fly settles,a twitch on the glossy flank—the chocolate horse, past
Jack’s cousin, Crime, got his name when he was twenty. He had graduated from boosting candy bars at the Table
