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!


Elvis Bojangles

(Copyright Clyde Collins 1999)


Madam Beloved’s





kiss of democracy theatre

The Living Legend Of

Jesusita & Padre Gallegos

by Cloyd Campfire

El padre of 
La Villa de 
Padre Gallegos 
was he 
 was he  
mucha bonita 
widowed & free 
of Padre Gallegos 
was she, was she  
Together they lived 
in thee adobe 
labyrinthine rectory 
And together 
they lived happy 
& comfortably 
Isolated & 
surrounded by 
wild hostility  
Was the humble 
a-crumble New Mexico 
of years  
There were 
folk cures 
When Jesusita 
took a 
spoonful of one 
She become beautiful 
forever like the 
rising & setting sun  
She never cried 
she never died 
now she do abide 
In the world of 
today ~ el diablo’s 
delectable bride  
Padre Gallegos 
like everyone else 
sooner or later died 
Padre Gallegos though 
his soul wouldn’t go 
to el grande other side
a ghost 
The Host 
But most 
of all 
he haunts the trail  
Of the eternal beauty 
whom he loves 
   Jesusita his holy grail…


staring Richard Burton & Raquel Welch

(text copyright Clyde Collins 2017)