Wild Women In The Borderlands Of My Mind

~~~

FOR

THE QUEEN

OF

MY BUFFALOS

by

Rawclyde

!

~~~

1980

~~~

~

~ first passage ~

 ~

I am

a herd of

buffalos ~ my

name is Poo Poo Face

 ~

My father is

  the fly in your eye   

my mother

a limping mule race  

 ~

   I’m stampeding

   yes I am  

thru your

   red traffic light   

 ~

The one

El Vaquero shot

with his gun the

  other night

 ~

The lead buffalo

of me

is Poetry ~ all

the rest are primitive

 ~

I am

a thousand rages

raging

to run free and live

 ~

Sharp machete hooves

shiny bullet eyes

Poetry

   has got ’em   

 ~

And dancing

on his quaking hump

is a girl called Honey

   Bottom  

 ~

Bluer than your

latest diamond

are the eyes in her

   face  

 ~

Her balance is

a miracle ~ her clothes

a teeny bit of

lace

 ~

Old Brag

has just fallen down

along

 the way 

 ~

Old Brag

always did have

too much to

 say

 ~

Bitter Truth

is still

thundering

 along

 ~

But

Bitter Truth

has changed

 her bitter song

 ~

   Desperate Time

his hooves

thump

   the same old constant pace   

 ~

And condors

dive in ‘n out

of

the dust behind Poo Poo Face…

~

~

~ chorus ~

 ~

 Dance,

Honey Bottom,

dance

   these buffalos blind   

~

Dance

them

over the highest cliff

   you can find 

You’re

the queen

of these

   raging buffalos    

~

Whatever

horizon

your hip bumps is

where we goes!

~

~

~ second passage ~

 ~

So Honey Bottom

and Poo Poo Face

break

   across your treeless plain  

 ~

Where nothin’

grows

but nails and crosses

 so insane

 ~

 Oops

Big Shot

and the one n’ only

   Holy Nose  

 ~

Who

call themselves

bison instead of

   buffalos

 ~

Fall

down

a haunted

   prairie dog hole  

 ~

And a

buffalo with no name

lights a cigar ~ good

 for the soul

 ~

Meanwhile Honey

Bottom’s

toes

   delight Poetry’s spine  

 ~

She dances

up and

down his back

   so fine  

 ~

He kicks and

he snorts ~ charges

over a

   very high bluff   

 ~

All the rest of

me

follows ~ feeling

 kind of rough

 ~

The dust settles ~

where

did

 we go?

 ~

Are we

broken

and

 piled up below?

 ~

  Well,

friend, take

a look at

   the sky  

 ~

Take a

lonnnnnnng

look at those

  clouds driftin’ by  

 ~

I know

you’re not a

fascist ~ just

   a hungry lover  

 ~

So I suggest

to you ~ you

ought to run

   for cover  

 ~

Those clouds

are getting blacker

and blacker and

   kind of blue   

 ~

 Too late ~

Honey Bottom and

Poo Poo Face are pissing

on you!

~

~

~ chorus ~

 ~

Take it easy,

Honey Bottom, step

off the

   stage  

 ~

Take it easy,

Honey Bottom, there’s

no more

   rage   

 ~

Take my coat,

Honey Bottom, we’re

driftin’

   so high   

 ~

Before

I met you

all I loved was

 the sky.

~

 ~~~

Wild Women In The Borderlands Of My Mind

http://oftheborderlands.yolasite.com

stories & songs

by

Rawclyde

!

~~~

Photos: Lizzy Frost

 actress model & dancer

http://lizzyfrost.wordpress.com

Photographer: Nathan J. Terry

http://njtphoto.com

Paintings courtesy of First People website

http://www.firstpeople.us

Text: Copyright Clyde Collins 1980, 2010, 2012

~~~

~~~

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About Rawclyde!

I have employed a few pen names throughout the years. Rawclyde with an exclamation mark (!) is the one too sticky to go away... Came of age at Crawford High, San Diego, CA ~ writing sports, a column, & playing football ~ graduated in '68... Attended SDSU for a couple years... Hit the road in a '56 Chevy milk-truck, a "studymobile," filling up notebooks & working as a laborer in the southwest... Practiced the genteel art of fiction for several years in my hometown... Enlisted in the U.S. Army ~ they made me a newsman in Hawaii ~ wrote another column for a while... Attended more courses at SDSU ~ studied novel writing with Professor Charlie Brashers... Sold books out of an '85 Ford one-ton van, a "book mule," in the desert... Did some writing in an old hotel in Prescott AZ... Have written & self-published 9 or so books ~ many of which are hiding out on the cyber highway...
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