*****

Recorded Reading (3:56): https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/b9za5aktx4y1p3n02jaoo/The-Last-Real-Pow-Wow.mp3?rlkey=f05ohqgimsg6bwowk81ipch0h&dl=0

*****

The Last Real Pow Wow

This poet’s been to pow wows
The kind which tourists bring
In which indiff’rent braves
Truly indifferently sing

The women go with even shoulders
Caref’lly covered up
Though the thermometer might
Have its triple digits up

And drummers, hunched unstalwart
Beat their skins halfheartedly
The ladies stepping small and dull
Conscientiously

But once, unadvertised,
I heard that clar’ion midnight call
Which would not let me back in sleep
Complacently to fall

And answered, as the custom is
Of poets everywhere,
Braving the frigid winter
Denver cold without a care

I did get my reward,
As they say — got it, yes, and how!
For I was priviledged to see
The last true passionate pow wow

Two native men were standing in
A bus stop there, though why
They did so was a mystery
No bus at that hour coming by

And as I watched and listened
Right there by that downtown street
They began to use their shelter
To create a beat

In no time a mighty rhythm
Resonated thence
And after that the true
Singing of the old world commenced

From deep inside their bellies came
The “hunh!” and “hi!” and “how!”
In manner more impressive
Than we ever hear them now

Of course I did not know the words
But no education it took
The meaning at their center
Might by no ear be mistook:

“Oh, we are free, and hon’rable
Guided unfettered conscience by
We do not know of falsehood
We have never told a lie

“We wage our wars by counting coup
For bloodless victory
Conduct ourselves between us
With unfailing decency

“We fling ourselves across the backs
Of e’en the wildest horse
And take the mighty buffalo
Down to ground with skill and force

“And yet despite our prowess
We ever seek to be
With our great environment
In balance and in harmony

“We feed our old, we heal our sick
Our women, free and proud
Walk with their sleek heads up
Ay, and speak the truth out loud

“And though you sluglike men
Uncivil and uncivilized
Have, temporarily, control
Of this land that we prized

“And raked and raped and plundered it
And covered it with tar
On which to build your sky scraper,
On which to run your smelly car

“It doesn’t mean for such excess
To pay it able find you will
Be, on that rapid nearing day
You are presented with the bill

“You might have listened when we spoke
Common respect toward us turned
Perhaps simple survival skills
Upon this planet learned

“As it is, it starts to seem
To the short-term view
You’re near to stamping yourselves out
And taking all of us with you

“So let us call the Old Ones
One more time, to this far place
To see if they might have effect
Upon your backward race

“Yet should they not, this night we two
A genuine pow wow have had
In times of future devastation
To look back on and be glad…”

As glad, humbled and honored was
This shivering Caucasian lass
Hov’ring in the shadows
Of a real pow wow at last

*****

Until removal of the stalker/targeter/vandal/arsonist following her allows her to approach any landlord ~ even for a private parking space ~ and to begin once again to create professional connections and to rebuild her life, this poet presently lives homeless and at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level.

Arts patrons may visit http://www.UgiftABLE.com , using code #72D-31S, or choose to send a personal check to the poet’s ABLE account. It takes about two weeks for the poet to be notified of your patronage.

Thank you for supporting quality in the fine arts.