Rights?
Fortnights in mud
Beggars wager, swagger
Trip
Red land taken by force
From Red Dog’s Indian Ancestors
Iroquoi, Sioux, Mosquito
(he’s the chief of each)
With no family left
No pure blood left unspilled
Spoiled by quotas and commissioners
Paid to play
Number by colors.
Some hues are not desirable
In an American painting
We royally prefer:
Green-green-gray
Fleshy-white-pink
Navy-blue-bruised-violet
Collar-starched-opal
Blood-soaked-desert-beige
Whitewashed.
Keep your
Tear trailed dirt shade
Boot stomped patterned red
Black on black ski mask cut out
Away from our
Glossy magazine spread
Eagle balding.
-----
O.G. Red Dog
Informed me of his
U.N. issued raincoat
With ID, two hundred
And the tape was amazing!
He had walked all of Frisco
Every neighborhood,
Telling everybody
Speaks nine languages
All the time recording,
He didn’t break a window
And resting in my driveway
Listening back,
The pigs took the vet downtown
Without hearing
How he’d just returned from his station
How the tape recorder belonged to United Nations
How he had received his duster
In service to his
Land of the free.
Watch the crowd thinning
From gas guzzling vultures
Trained to kill and leave
Decomposition
To the least composed.
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