d

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

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d was determined to do right he worked by day and studied by night he scorned tradition and all pieties and drew up plans for new societies the path of the world is never straight twisted by power forsaken by fate no one knows that d exists he is out there somewhere in the mist

c

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

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c was a clown of the old persuasion had a hat and a nose for every occasion he remembered the days when he made children laugh when the 20th century was only a half snakes are smooth and monkeys are hairy the highway is dark and clowns are scary the dream of the world takes funny bounces but a pint of whiskey is still 16 ounces next

b

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

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b was a boy who was easily bored dreamed of traveling to distant shores he would conquer the native races and bask in the glow of their smiling faces sit on a throne and watch the waves and everybody would be his slave folks are not always what they seem outside they smile but inside they dream next

a

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

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a was a friendly guy walked down the street saying hey! some folks thought he was odd but that was just his way and so he went along with a smile upon his face and then one day he was gone gone without a trace few folks ever wondered where he went or why and if gently reminded would say, oh yeah, that guy who among us, brothers snd sisters will escape a similar fate? will even one person wave as we pass through the earthly gate? next

z

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

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z has a job five days a week of its details he does not speak on his days off he goes for walks to the mountain and around the block no one cares much what he does his thoughts if any produce no buzz if by chance you pass him by do not look him in the eye next

y

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

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y was a clown with a purple face who amused the children with style and grace the circus traveled from town to town but meanwhile the world was burning down y’s sad antics were met with scorn a new race of humans was being born the circus vanished into the mist this story has no final twist next

x

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

x was a human who lived in a tree was not you and was not me walked at night down highways gray slept in the fields at break of day folks thought they had x’s measure that x had a secret buried treasure no one knows where x has gone the rain falls down where the sun once shone next