A little mud hut…


What you need is a little mud hut with some bones above the door

half a canteen of water & nobody there to keep the score

you can hoot & howl & chase lizards across the empty wasteland

you’ll be one with dust & thirst & life will be oh so grand


And if a bill with your name on it comes floatin’ by

don’t pay it, burn it, & watch the smoke drift across the sky

burn it on the rock you use for an altar next to your door

offer the burning bill up to Jehovah & then, then pray for some more


You’ll be so happy you won’t care whether or not you’re wearin’ shoes

you’ll be so carefree you’ll just fall down whenever you want & take a snooze

and when you die, just roam around a spirit forever more

to hell with workin’ and bills, now yer headin’ for reality’s distant shore


Where the angels sing and play hool-a-hoop with moon beams

& saints weave endless gowns for the next wedding of you & your dreams

where God is one big grinning communion host in the sky

and all your cartoon images of Him are thee exact reason why…


from an out-of-print book

A Love Song To The American Lizard

by Rawclyde!

(Copyright Clyde Collins 1999)



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