[DL] Alterna-Western I can't get outta my head...

["Judd Karlman" <dodntint@hotmail.com>]

From: "Judd Karlman" <dodntint@hotmail.com>
Subject: Alterna-Western I can't get outta my head...
Date: Wed, 04 Sep 2002 00:51:06 -0400

After years I tracked down the poem at the end of this message.  I'd read 
the poem in an anthology, maybe during high school or even junior high.  It 
stuck with me.

Then I had an image of a battered brass scarab belt buckle, holding up a 
worn pair of jeans.  The buckle is also an amulet, keeping the rattlers away 
from his horse while on the trail.  Whose horse?  I don't know.  I don't 
know yet.  But I know his dusty boots are engraved with cats chasing snakes 
and the heels are worn.  There is a leather band with hieroglyphs around a 
black hat.

What we know as the Mississippi is the Nile's Brother.  The Brother bisects 
the great states of upper and lower Rosetta with its gambling boats in the 
shape of great hippos, red-stone pyramids and Bast-run brothels.

North and South Rosetta are at odds, last month a fight broke out in their 
congress and all augurs seem to see nothing but plagues and Angels of Death 
in their tea-leaves.  The Pilgrim-slaves of Lower Rosetta seem to be biding 
their time, waiting for something.

Texas is a state afire with a range wars between the cattle barons.  The 
Wooden Horse Ranch in Troy County has gained the enemnity of many of the 
most powerful barons.  Rumor has it the blood is being spilled over a woman.

The northeast has been settled by great lodges of Norsemen with runes carved 
in the bullets of their six-guns and totem poles adopted from their 
neighbors with Odin atop Thor atop Loki atop Fenris atop a Turtle.

The east was settled by the army of a Roman emperor from the old country who 
has since fallen to his brother's knives.  The senators of the Republic 
await the coming war between upper and lower Rosetta greedily, hoping to 
gain more land.

There is also this hazy image of Little Pyramid, a town on the border 
between Upper Rosetta, Lower Rosetta and where the Norse hold law.  The 
pyramid that gives the town its name is no bigger than an outhouse, has been 
worn away by time, said to be a general from Rosetta who was peppered with 
arrows from the native tribes.  The glyphs are worn memories.

The Exodus maybe parting one of the Great Lakes rather than the Red Sea.  
Sly Uli makes his way back home after the war through old Mexico.  It is a 
wild west where every mythology I loved as a child meets in the dust.  Six 
guns meets Set.  High noon for Horus.



Any additions or ideas are appreciated and the following is the afore 
mentioned poem:




I Am a Cowboy in the Boat of Ra
Ishmael Reed

'The devil must be forced to reveal any such physical evil (potions, charms, 
fetishes, etc.) still outside the body and these must be burned.' (Rituale 
Romanum, published 1947, endorsed by the coat-of-arms and introductory 
letter from Francis cardinal Spellman)


I am a cowboy in the boat of Ra,
sidewinders in the saloons of fools
bit my forehead   like   O
the untrustworthiness of Egyptologists
who do not know their trips. Who was that
dog-faced man? they asked, the day I rode
from town.

School marms with halitosis cannot see
the Nefertiti fake chipped on the run by slick
germans, the hawk behind Sonny Rollins' head or
the ritual beard of his axe; a longhorn winding
its bells thru the Field of Reeds.

I am a cowboy in the boat of Ra. I bedded
down with Isis, Lady of the Boogaloo, dove
deep down in her horny, stuck up her Wells-Far-ago
in daring midday getaway. 'Start grabbing the
blue,' I said from top of my double crown.

I am a cowboy in the boat of Ra. Ezzard Charles
of the Chisholm Trail. Took up the bass but they
blew off my thumb. Alchemist in ringmanship but a
sucker for the right cross.

I am a cowboy in the boat of Ra. Vamoosed from
the temple i bide my time. The price on the wanted
poster was a-going down, outlaw alias copped my stance
and moody greenhorns were making me dance;
  while my mouth's
shooting iron got its chambers jammed.

I am a cowboy in the boat of Ra. Boning-up in
the ol' West i bide my time. You should see
me pick off these tin cans whippersnappers. I
write the motown long plays for the comeback of
Osiris. Make them up when stars stare at sleeping
steer out here near the campfire. Women arrive
on the backs of goats and throw themselves on
my Bowie.

I am a cowboy in the boat of Ra. Lord of the lash,
the Loup Garou Kid. Half breed son of Pisces and
Aquarius. I hold the souls of men in my pot. I do
the dirty boogie with scorpions. I make the bulls
keep still and was the first swinger to grape the taste.

I am a cowboy in his boat. Pope Joan of the
Ptah Ra. C/mere a minute willya doll?
Be a good girl and
bring me my Buffalo horn of black powder
bring me my headdress of black feathers
bring me my bones of Ju-Ju snake
go get my eyelids of red paint.
Hand me my shadow

I'm going into town after Set

I am a cowboy in the boat of Ra

look out Set   here i come Set
to get Set     to sunset Set
to unseat Set  to Set down Set

              usurper of the Royal couch
              imposter RAdio of Moses' bush
              party pooper O hater of dance
              vampire outlaw of the milky way







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