memorial day is better thought of as a day to remember all the ones dead from war...all of them.
there are many wars, some more obvious than others.
another one of my favorite poets on the planet is Chrystos. This poem is from the most amazingly kick ass book "Fire Power".
Night Watch Me Closely
I'm invisible turn away ticking
You won't find us in anthologies of american poets
We forgot to sign that treaty
Everybody likes to read the whites writing myths of us
Us telling about us is too hard
Pouting she tells me how she cried &: cried
after reading Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee
I coughed looked away disappeared
certain not to comfort her
These expectations a matter of course
like too tight shoes
Veering coarse my words are spittle
See them evaporate on the sidewalk spĀµttering
near your sneakers as you patrol reality with a stick
beating back our tears
I sniff the books rolling out in which we're footnotes
walking away into a hollywood sunset
where the west was won
in a stacked poker game of cheats
Hey I'm not screaming since you're not listening
This, our pulse
We are the heart of your lives
your lies
Caretakers of what you presume to own
Laughing I'm a puff of smoke signaling
in some cowbullshit movie
running fast forward
Being Indian is being a surrealist
You won't find us in your local library stoic &: strong
except in volumes of defeat speeches
they call our literature
Millions
of dead
are in my voice
Rerun that through the tape of your mind
Look for them as a matter of keening necessity
Cry Now as you erase these
mean angry words with whitewash
The spirits won't hear
I'm a ghost dancing with hands on fire
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1 comment:
I like it.
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