~
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…
~
art by
McKensie Birnie
http://mckenziebirnie.blogspot.com/p/about-mckenzie-birnie.html
Ladislao Loera
photo:
anonymous
text:
Copyright Clyde Collins 2014
~
Back Desert Trail
http://backdeserttrail.yolasite.com/we-the-people.php
~
~
Thank you. A breath of fresh air. Date: Mon, 16 Jun 2014 20:14:47 +0000 To: komula@outlook.com
And thank you for letting me know! Hope you’re doing well these days, Roger!