happy easter

~

God this, God that, God everything & damn it too

the end of reality’s trail & everything else that’s true

the last frontier of hard facts and how-do-you-do’s

I stood on a hill in deep desert & all I had was ‘de blues

~

Find yourself a woman, lad, and work for a living too

make sure she’s a good woman who will always stand by you

raise some kids or corn and ply your trade on the avenue

or you’ll end up standing amongst the cacti with nothing else to do

~

I stood there hard and long concentrating on every thorn

but no angel arrived blowing music on a golden horn

all was quiet but a little wind, no birds, just some ants

crawlin’ around aimlessly lookin’ for someone with whom to dance

~

I trudged back to the truck, crunching the desert turf along the way

opened the doors to the book-store in the rear without much to say

figured I’d sell a book or two if a miracle happened to stray

but there was nobody around but me on this fine lonely day

~

Nobody but a million catatonic cacti with not much to offer but a thorn

stretching off into the distance come evening and come morn

I sat in the wind & the blood of my brain ~ t’was a mournful song

and then, and then, suddenly, a rabbit come lopin’ along

~

T’was the biggest I’d ever seen, about the size of a dog

a jack rabbit who fit no-ways in any kind of catologue

he wasn’t at all shy like other rabbits in other scenes

when he stopped & asked me, “Have you got any books on human beings?”

~

Stunned, I replied, “I have books on coyotes and snakes

cacti, deserts, rivers, God and whatever it takes

to get along with anything including killer bees

but, but all I have on human beings are fantasies”

~

The rabbit sadly bowed his head, loped away and disappeared

I said to a fly buzzing around my hat, “that was really weird”

closed up the store, bent low to tie one of my worn-out shoes

climbed behind the wheel, bumped on outta them deep desert blues…

~

from the out-of-print book

A Love Song To The American Lizard

by Rawclyde!

alias 

Elvis Bojangles

(Copyright Clyde Collins 1999)

~

Madam Beloved’s

shrine

http://spiritdameshrine.yolasite.com

~

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aye! a wayward wind

~

The wayward wind is a restless wind
A restless wind that yearns to wander
And she was born the next of kin
The next of kin to the wayward wind

~

~

In a lonely shack by a railroad track
She spent her younger days
And I guess the sound of the outward-bound
Made her a slave to her wand’rin ways

~

~

And the wayward wind is a restless wind
A restless wind that yearns to wander
And she was born the next of kin
The next of kin to the wayward wind

~

~

Oh I met her there in a border town
She vowed we’d never part
Though she tried her best to settle down
I’m now alone with a broken heart

~

~

And the wayward wind is a restless wind
A restless wind that yearns to wander
And she was born the next of kin
The next of kin to the wayward wind

~

~

The

next

of

kin

to

the

wayward

wind

~

~

song

Herbert Newman & Stanley R. Lebowsky

art

James Roderick

Clyde Caldwell

& Kaleya

beautiful models anonymous

editor

Elvis Bojangles

~