the indian givers

spoken word
of family affairs
the years have rusted
the truth away
all who remain
are second hand dolls
made with dirty rags
lost twice
false beliefs six feet under
i’ll sew a quilt with the sins
we’ll stand and watch as the last of the farm burns
and remember
we come from the native people
who lost their wampum
musical teepees
blowing smoke of
chief unhappy face
and his wife
stands to throw stones

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