dominus vobiscum

~

     Located at various positions around Road’s cannon were 5 wetbacks from Meh-hee-ko.

     This was Poncho and his pals.

     Poncho was the sharp hombre who’d slow danced so close with Mary the night before.  He had also slept that one cold night in the back room of the gas station in the hills.  With him that night had been Memo, who was taller, and lean and strong.

     Memo, at the moment, stepped back from the cannon’s snout, with the ramming stick at rest in his hands.

     A 13 year old boy, Cid, stood at the rear of the cannon, waiting patiently like the man he consistently strained to be, had to be, if he was to survive the hard life cut out for him on the Ramona valley egg ranch above the border where he worked long hours.  Once he had the money Road was going to pay him, he no longer would have to work these long hours ~ not for a few years anyway.  He lived below the border.

     At the moment he had an unlit stick match in his hand that shook slightly and was poised next to the cannon’s fuse.  Thus the need for patience.

     This 13 year old wetback was also lean ~ due to hard work and the absence of luxuries like over eating.

     Juan, 23 years old, the oldest of Poncho’s pals, stood on the other side of the cannon from Memo.  The cannon was, of course, aimed bold and awesome at the church’s front door.

     Juan also worked at the egg ranch ~ and lived in Mexico.  He drove himself and little Cid to Ramona and back 6 days a week, in an old ’38 Dodge pick-up truck ~ painted black.  Juan also could take a long boner of a vacation when paid by Road.

     Scattered on the street below the cannon’s muzzle were numerous empty rice boxes.  One empty rice box was still in Juan’s hand.  This box had been the last one to have its contents spilled down the cannon’s barrel.

     On their way to the wedding, Road had stopped at a big grocery store in San Diego on the corner of College Avenue and El Gringo Boulevard, had bought all the boxes of rice on the shelf.  There was a lot of rice in Road’s cannon ~ for Tulip’s wedding.

     Road had also bought a quart bottle of whiskey and a box of cigars at the liquor store across the boulevard from the grocery store.

     As for the illegal aliens (or wetbacks), Road had picked them up at the end of the dirt road he turned down while traveling Highway 94 ~ a preconceived plan.  Poncho and his pals had hiked a short trail from Mexico to the rendezvous spot.

~

~

    Poncho, by the way, had learned some English in Tijuana since he’d last seen Road a few weeks earlier at the Mobil gas station ~ thus piece by piece with a lot missing out he was able to tell Road about the 12 cannons in Pedro Mendez’s abandoned garlic mine.

     Pedro Mendez was Poncho’s uncle.

     And Poncho, at the moment, was sitting in the driver’s seat of Road’s truck, which was idling.

     So ~

     Road’s cannon had a cannon crew.  And Road’s cannon was aimed at the big brick church’s opened double front door out of which Tulip and he had exited.  When all the other people came running out after Road and Tulip, Road yelled, “Ole!”

     That was the signal for little half smiling, half sneering Cid to strike his match.  So he struck it across the round top of the cannon and set what flame he had to the cannon’s fuse ~ and stepped back with his ears plugged.

     Poncho gunned the truck’s engine.

     Road hopped into the cab, dragged Tulip with him.

     The people charged.

     Rice explosively bloomed out of the cannon’s mouth ~ a forceful dry splash of wedding cheer!

     The boom was so loud that the windshield in Road’s truck cracked.

     Some of the charging wedding goers (or leavers) ducked.  Others fell over.  The rest bravely accepted the stingy wedding cheer in their faces.  One young man fainted.  Many lay on the ground afraid to open their eyes, thinking they might be dead.  Only one person was shot incurably blind by the rice: the mother of the bride, who could now add blindness to her woes and her crippled back.

     Some people have no luck.

     Memo, Juan, and Little Cid jumped into the rear of the truck, thru the rear doors ~ and the 5th crew man, a Mexican whose name was, yes, San Diego, bolted the doors shut from the inside as driver Poncho punched the truck smokey down the street.

     Tulip raised a quizzical glance at Road as he peered at the rear view mirror on the passenger’s side of the truck.  Tulip had just heard him say softly, maybe even reverently, “Dominus Vobiscum.”

     That’s Catholic latin for, “The Lord be with you.”

~

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text from

the short novel

~

~

~

~

editor

elvis bojangles

~

litany of the holy trinity

elvis bojangles 

having been lost in the imaginary for some time

returns

with a special serving

a prayer

~

Blessed Trinity,
hear us.

Adorable Unity,
graciously hear us.

~

God the Father of heaven,
have mercy on us.

God the Son, Redeemer of the world,
have mercy on us.

God the Holy Spirit,
have mercy on us.

Holy Trinity, one God,
please have mercy on us.

~

Father, from whom are all things,
have mercy on us.

Son, through whom are all things,
have mercy on us.

Holy Spirit, in whom are all things.
have mercy on us.

Holy and undivided Trinity,
have mercy on us.

~

Father everlasting,
have mercy on us.

Only-begotten Son of the Father,
have mercy on us.

Spirit, Who proceed from the Father and the Son,
have mercy on us.

Coeternal Majesty of Three Divine Persons,
have mercy on us.

~

Father the Creator,
have mercy on us.

Son the Redeemer,
have mercy on us.

Holy Spirit the Comforter,
have mercy on us.

~

Holy, holy, holy Lord God of hosts,
have mercy on us.

Who are, who were, and who are to come,
have mercy on us.

God, Most High who inhabit eternity,
have mercy on us.

To whom alone are due all honour and glory,
have mercy on us.

Who alone do great wonders,
have mercy on us.

Power infinite,
have mercy on us.

Wisdom incomprehensible,
have mercy on us.

Love unspeakable,
! Please Be Merciful !

~

Spare us, O Holy Trinity.
Be merciful,

Graciously hear us,
O Holy Trinity.

From all evil,
deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

From all sin,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

From all pride,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

From all love of riches,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

From all uncleanness,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

From all sloth,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

From all inordinate affection,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

From all envy and malice,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

From all anger and impatience,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

~

~

From every thought, word, and deed, contrary to your holy law,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

From your everlasting malediction,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

Through your almighty power,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

Through your plenteous loving-kindness,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

Through the exceeding treasures of your goodness and love,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

Through the depths of your wisdom and knowledge,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

Through all your ineffable perfections,
Deliver us, O Holy Trinity.

~

~

We sinners,
we beseech you, hear us.

That we may ever serve you alone,
We beseech you, hear us.

That we may worship you in spirit and in truth,
We beseech you, hear us.

That we may love you with all our heart,
with all our soul,
and with all our strength,
We beseech you, hear us.

~

That, for your sake,
we may love our neighbour as ourselves,
We beseech you, hear us.

That we may faithfully keep your holy commandments,
We beseech you, hear us.

That we may never defile our bodies
and our souls with sin,
We beseech you, hear us.

That we may go from grace to grace,
and from virtue to virtue,
We beseech you, hear us.

~

~

That we may finally enjoy
the sight of you in glory,
We beseech you, hear us.

That you would hear us,
We beseech you, hear us.

O blessed Trinity,
we beseech you, deliver us.

O blessed Trinity,
have mercy on us.

Jehovah, have mercy.
Jesus, have mercy.
Sophia, have mercy.

Blessed are you, O God in the firmament of heaven.
And worthy to be praised, and glorious, and highly exalted forever.

~

~

Let us pray.

Almighty and everlasting God,
you have given us your servants
grace by the profession of the true Faith
to acknowledge the glory of the eternal Trinity
and in the power of your Divine Majesty
to worship the Unity.
We beg you to grant that,
by our fidelity in this same Faith,
we may always be defended from all dangers.

Amen.

~

editor

Rawclyde

!

~

Enter Platonic Man

by Rawclyde !

Twirling like a po’ boy’s yo-yo

Like a holy dime

Like two friends are supposed to rhyme

Is Platonic Man too late?

The woman knows pain too well

Pure beauty & truth took a bullet

A po’ boy needs a second chance

But will he get it?

Probably not

Po’ boys never get a second chance

Unless a miracle occurs & the moment is right &

All the signs are brilliantly bright

Woe is ye & woe is me

Are creeps forever

Are two friends never

Is it too late for Platonic Man?

The stars are swirling

The sky is unfurling

Swear to God I can’t do anything right

Twirling twirling

Text Copyright Clyde Collins 2016

Stars

by Rawclyde !

Everyday after dinner

I wait for day

To go away

I can hardly wait

To dwell with the stars

& my heart’s guitars

Twanging for her

As I lay on the ground

Blanket thrown down

Is it really

To no avail

To once more set sail

To be

At her tattoo side

To get balled-out as “Creepy Clyde”?

In the starry trembling-train night

Ahh, the mighty dreams

Ohhh, the flighty schemes…

~

Text Copyright Clyde Collins 2016

Drummer Photo Copyright Clyde Collins 2016

Art by Giacobino & Fedini at Deviant Art

(color modified considerably) & by Disney

~

Mystical Phenomenology

~

by Rawclyde!

~

I see it in your eyes

Briefly on your belly

It’s there in splendor

The glorification of everything

& nothing at all

~

Unlike embalmed scripture

You are living testament

Gobbling fish n’ chips

Heaven’s gate a chatter

Upon the threshold I swoon

~

Text Copyright Clyde Collins 2016

~

Yonder

~

by Rawclyde!

~

His lips caress her stomach

Her hand plays his head like a skillet

Ghost Face wakes up

~

All those stars out there

No longer are of geometric design

They are scrambled

~

He steps on the accelerator

A spitball leaps

Into the red hot coals

~

Text Copyright Clyde Collins 2016

~