El Vaquero

cow10

~

by Rawclyde!

(1980)

~

Part One

~

I was ridin’

my mule

stalking

 the great horned toad

~

 Wondering

am I

Brother Eternity or

 Dead End Road

~

 Fightin’ off

the heat

&

 a hungry vulture

~

Across

the insurmountable desert

of a

single man’s culture

~

I was pouring sand

out of my canteen

when

 thee ol’ mule died

~

 As I walked away

from

the poor dead thing

 I almost cried

~

My

feet

kept

 stallin’

~

 Pretty soon

I

was

 crawlin’

~

‘Til I was at

the edge

of a wide deep hole

 in the ground

~

 N’ you won’t believe

what

I saw

 when I looked down

~

Way

down

down

  down there

~

I saw a Cyclops’s brain

without a skull

or

hair

~

Bloody

& glowing

& big as a

hotel

~

It

beckoned

to me & suddenly

I fell

~

Had a funny feeling

I was fallin’

into

hell

~

Had a funny feeling

I’d be

gone

for a spell

~

Prayed a quick prayer

that was

quick

 as a shot

~

The brain gulped

n’

now this boy is

   food for thought…

~

~

Part Two

~

After

I was swallowed up

by the

    prehistoric brain

~

 I kept on fallin’

like a

drop

of rain

~

Fell thru fleecy clouds

that

like scholars

 quoted many a book

~

Fell into

the middle of a city

that had

a haunted look

~

When you are food

for thought

you grow light like

dust

~

So

when

I hit the street

 I didn’t bust

~

 I just stood there

n’ gawked

at the haunted city

 around me

~

 N’

let

it

 be

~

 The buildings were not

built

of brick

 or steel or wood

~

But they

were

built

good

~

 Out

of

experiences

 long gone

~

Like dancing

below the border

’til

 dawn

~

 Or driving across

a vast country

in an

old slow truck

~

N’

occasionally

getting

stuck

~

 Or working a job

day

after

day

~

For

less

than

 fair pay

~

Then

with

 nothin’

 to say

~

Qwitting

in

a

 spectacular way

~

For

ye olde

whore

 called Glory

~

Or

writing

a

 story

~

Yeeeeeeeap

experiences long gone

these

 haunted buildings were

~

Inside a brain

that was

crazy

for sure

~

There were

beautiful woman

daydreams

 walking all over the place

~

 Each one

a slice of heaven

 begging to

 sit on my face

~

The prettiest

sat at a bus stop

looking in her purse

for a dollar

~

Her breasts were

peek-a-boo secrets

under a

   very unbuttoned collar

~

She crossed

her soul smokin’

legs

   lifted one somewhat high

~

Panty flash

blinded

my

eye

~

 Her dress

slipped

up

 her thigh

~

She

looked

up

  n’ said “Hi”

~

 I could tell

she was looking

for

 somebody to meet

~

So I tripped

on the curb &

fell

 at her feet

~

Attempted to lick

her delectable leg

nothing was there

but air

~

She was only

a daydream

there was nothin’

to share

~

I

groped

about

town

~

Feelin’

kind

a

down

~

Started back alley’

 driftin’

thru this haunted city in

a mind

~

A city

nailed together

by experiences

 of every kind

~

Like

discovering in

a tree a

 circular branch

~

Or

working

on

 a ranch

~

Or

going

nuts

 in a jail

~

Or

around each corner

learning to

 gracefully fail

~

Yeeeeeeeap

I was back alley

driftin’

   in somebody’s brain

~

When I spied a

little girl

with her ankle

 locked to a chain

~

An ordinary little girl

quiet as

a

mouse

~

On top o’

the

tallest

house

~

That’s

where

she

sat

~

Sadder than

a cowboy

without

 a cowboy hat

~

I climbed the stairs

asked her

what her name

might be

~

She said, “My

name

is The Peace And Comfort

 Of Reality”

~

She had

freckles on

her face

 & knobby knees

~

Her hair

was

full

 of fleas

~

Her eyes were

blue

like a

    teeter tottering prayer

~

My heart almost

exploded as

I looked at her I

swear

~

N’ the next

thing

she

 had to say

~

Was “Pleeeeeeease

take

me

  away”

~

So I leaned over n’

the chain on her ankle

I was

 about to break

~

When the clouds above went

crazy

quoting books for

 a soul’s sake

~

Quoted so many

so loud

all the buildings

 began to shake

~

N’ all the

pretty daydreams

below

 began to make

~

So much noise howlin’

they seemed to be

witches

 burnin’ at the stake

~

N’ I half expected

the chain in my hand

to turn into

 a snake

~

N’ across the desert

on

top

 o’ the sky

~

Where the sun

is fierce

& the

 humor is dry

~

There appeared on

a mule

a vaquero

 ridin’ by

~

Oh

my

oh

 my

~

His craftsmanship in

the saddle

made me

 look like a fool

~

He was the

parable

of parables

 so God awful cool

~

The chain in

my hand turned

cold

like ice

~

N’ before

I

could

 think twice

~

Like a

crack

of lightning above

a plastered lake

~

El Vaquero said

“Don’t”

so I didn’t

   n’ now I’m awake…

~

~

Part Three

~

Yeah

now

I’m

 awake

~

Sittin’ at thee ol’

dream table

trying

 not to shake

~

It’s 4 o’clock in

the morning

the sun

  will be here soon

~

I must have dozed

off

dreaming

  yesterday afternoon

~

Of course the brain

I’ve

been walking in is

 my own

~

It makes me

kinda sad

seeing how it’s

grown

~

Such a haunted

home

for The Peace And

  Comfort Of

~

Jesus please

help me

learn

    how to love…

~

tony-alvis-mule-rider

art by

Ladislao Loera

http://www.frenzyart.com

photo:

anonymous

text:

Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

~

Back Desert Trail

http://backdeserttrail.yolasite.com/we-the-people.php

~

~

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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...
This entry was posted in love peace and freedom and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to El Vaquero

  1. Roger Komula says:

    Thank you. A breath of fresh air. Date: Mon, 16 Jun 2014 20:14:47 +0000 To: komula@outlook.com

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