Any Hippies Here? Say Aye!

I know, where I live, in this RV park, there's a flock of hippies, but they wont cop to it. They don't fly the colors anymore. There's no beads or Roman sandals or free love or anything...and there's sure as hell no Jesus today. But, there's a bunch of guys in town with Jesus tattoo's, and rap sheets a mile long. They will let you know, pronto..."it's pronounced 'Hey! Zeus!' pendejo!" Ok, move along.

The trailers are 'straight' now. The collars are button down. It looks like HOA on wheels. But there's one guy 'flying colors', and that really eats their craw. That's me, and it isn't a gay parade, or a stoner up a tree...it's this Buddhist guy, "Whose he trying to be?" Trying to be free, to find a way, to be myself, to make a friend, to crack a joke...to fall in love with anyone that wants to fall in love, to resurrect a bygone day...to find Jesus looking back at me, without malice or hypocrisy written on his face.

I didn't buy the gay parade, or microwave or technology, or bring this crap to town...but straight here is a kind of cover only...a camouflage that vaporizes into pot smoke when the lights go down. I haven't been offered yet, not a single toke. I haven't been told where the best 'wild hot springs' went. They save that for themselves...scared to death, what's happening in this world. I don't blame them one bit.

Whoever they are, or pretend to be...I can sniff out a lover. I know that Jesus came to love us in those days, back in the 60's. He stayed for a while, smoked some dope and went away. Everyone had too much fun, while young men died in a stupid war far away. But, they died here too...trying to stop the damn thing, with weed and love and flowers. Jesus save, if any of us qualify.

Namaste.


Written by Bruce James Clyde, at Deming, New Mexico

Art: 60's hippies, google pic