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)






The town sheriff

one black lonesome partner

tilted back in a chair

by the hanging tree


Sheriff Isom Dart

got so lonely there

he packed a few things on a burro

melted into the brush


When the train

chug-chugged around the bend

it blew it’s whistle but kept going

without even slowing down



there’s nothing there

whatever town was there

has melted into the earth


A couple lizards

dart from bush to bush

a bird perches on a cactus

   whispering wind…


(Copyright Clyde Collins 2012)


Are You Ready To Ride With Obama?


by Davy Crockett Reincarnated

Yuma Arizona


The American people are a hard-working bunch.  A lot of them don’t have or won’t take the time to follow politics too closely.  But they know what they want.  And what might that be?  It might very well be President Barack Obama for four more years.

Let’s whittle on the high-born rich and the economy ’til all we got is a broken-blade pocket knife with which to chip away.  Let’s keep the government strong & by & for the people ~ with our rights fought for & intack.  Don’t let the Super PAC goons with their top-dollar commercials fool you into working for two-cents a day, no social safety net, & fat profits in their pockets & their pockets only.

It is your right & privilege to vote for the better possibility of a little more tax for the ultra-rich to keep the government safety-nets strong for the poorer citizens who can then back with their hearts, minds & jobs ~ a strong middle-class work force.  So let’s keep Obama in the White House ~ he’s on our side.

Granted, the Republicans in the House of Representatives, which the American people voted into a majority 2 years ago to stop the spiraling debt, have been slow about working with our illustrious president.  But sooner or later they’ll come around & realize they cannot coddle the ultra-billionaires forever ~ especially when so many folks don’t have jobs, homes, or money.  They’ll have to give in sooner or later & stop trying to bully us poor folks too ~ you know, by threatening our social security, our teachers unions, and our beautiful gay friends who want to marry each other & raise plastic dildoes instead of over-populating our cities with illigetimate children like too many of us heterosexuals tend to do.

I’m gonna pull-in my reins about now & bring my galloping carriage to a trot here ~ and stable this mule with my favorite pet project.  What’s the most intelligent transportation available on the planet?  Was it the space shuttle?  No.  It’s my mule!

That’s right.  Put your phone away in the cupboard!  Push your out-of-gas car over the cliff!  We need to re-examine the profit potential of breeding mules ~ and developing donkey trails along the side of every freeway in these United States.  Small produce acreage should be the upcoming popular thing.  Let’s get our humanity back.  Let’s be Obamasonians…


Davy Cockett Reincarnated is the editor of the Old Timer Chronicle in Yuma AZ





Yuma’s “good morning” skies


the desert goddess’s eyes

barely open now

and awaiting

her nausea to go away

while radiating more n’ more

solar rays

tainted pretty pink, tainted gothic purple

and finally flashing their blue baby blue

all over the place

and the desert goddess moans

“Is this Goonsville or

is this the ghost town called Love?”


(Copyright Clyde Collins 2011)






I’m tired of whittling on the carcasses of

blind 3-eyeballed dragons with

dried-up peas rattling around inside their broken skulls…


I’m tired of finding girlfriends of yesterday

hung by the neck ’til dead & gone & gone again

from the sagging branch of the hanging tree infront of

the sherriff’s office & him hiding in

a locked jail cell all night long…


I’m tired of being told by the whistling wind that

my hair is too long & my work day is too short

& to hand it all over to a landlord who was born dead…


I’m so damn tired of walking around avoiding goons in cars

who chip at my brain with an insane

overload from television noisily sucking the juice outta their souls

& splattering this goon piss all over my reading lamp…


I’m weary so weary bleary & tossed & turned burned

& still walking ~ always walking around ~ in this

ghost town called Love

ahhh yes, this craven ghost town

this squirrelly ghost town…


(Copyright Clyde Collins 2011)


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