rawclyde

!

When you finally reach Deep Desert for real

you just rock in the wind with nothin’ to feel

but whatever you are, with or without a guitar

well, by gum, go ahead, touch your lone star

~

Me, I’m sittin’ in a little enclave surrounded by books

the doors are shut, the vent’s open, whatever is ~ just cooks

the wind is cookin’ along ’til, I guess, it evaporates

I’m all alone in the desert while she anticipates

~

Hidin’ in burrows and unwilling to reveal herself

wonderin’ who I am, what books are on my shelf

let me tell you, Lady Desert, I got the best books around

for sale here, amidst no-where, on your trusty ground

~

Our Lady of Guadalupe is standing right in front of me

humble, tender, persistent, a portrait of love forever free

free of humankind’s urban mocking greedy ultra idiocy

when you live without The Word you’re worse than piracy

~

Piracy upon the seas looting everything that might sail by

lizards in canoes, burros on rafts with ears twitching high

go ahead, crap-fucks, voraciously pluck it all up

’til there’s nothin’ left but your own over-a-brim drip slop cup

…

from

A Love Song to The American Lizard

(Copyright Clyde Collins 1999)