Boulder’s Naropa University has me buffaloed. The Naropian slam masters had never encountered Western Fiction or the Cowboy Poets. I’m not a poet, but I registered for slam master Bob Holman’s class. The New Yorker has dubbed Holman “The Ringmaster of the Spoken Word.” He had us translating and slamming poetry written in dead and dying languages into contemporary English.
They knew nothing of Cowboy Talk, an endangered language barely hanging on here in the West. As an effort in preservation, I translated one of the slam master’s sonnets into our Cowboy Talk.
Birthday Praise Sonnet for Marc Levin, Original by Bob Holman, 2001
Mark my words
Leven the bread
Half a century’s nothing, the Wise Man said
When the slam slams
When the blowback blows
Lights speed action rolls rolls rolls
The Party will Last
The Future’s simulcast
And we’ll Babble On
With our Icon O’Class
Mark my words
Leaven the bread
Half a century’s something, the Wise Man said
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Birthday Praise Sonnet for Marc Levin, Cowboy Talk translation, 2010 
Mark my palaver
Leaven up the bannock
Your cinch ain’t getting’ frayed, the Ol’ Hoss brayed
When the rustlers rustle
When the coulies overflow
Foot up in the stirrup and getty-up-go
The Roundup’s gonna Last
Ta’morra’s comin’ Fast
And we’ll jus’ Gallop On
With our Cowboy Lexicon
Quit spittin’ on ya lasso
Saddle up the Paint
Your cinch is gettin’ frayed, the Ol’ Hoss brayed
I. M. Buffaloed 
Makes perfect sense to me. 🙂 However there is a western song, the words go like this… I’m Ridin’ o’ Paint and a-leadin’o’ Dan, I’m off to Montana to throw a hoolihan… that left me puzzled. What was he going to do when he reached Montana? Throw a hoolihan? Maybe it’s a party, maybe it’s a fit. Nope, it’s a rope, a certain low flat rope used to catch a horse in the remuda.
One of my favorite western songs too. I usually hum it when I drive through Raton Pass. That and “When it’s twilight on the trail.”