*******
Seems
it's always been our way,
my people and now me, that when
I hear Them say "Go straight ahead!"
of course I turn off and get lost,
but don't I always meet the nicest
folks who don't mind showing me the
trail through unknown country.
They
say, "Never walk when you can ride!"
I keep on walking, straying, finding
nuggets in the stream.
"Don't swim when you can get a tow!"
I duck beneath the foam and strange
things smile at me.
"Don't
talk to them, they're different!"
They were and are and always will be…
different, sometimes odd…my friends.
I
never wonder where They are, the
narrow little critics, circling their narrow
little wagons, warning the world about me
and, well… you; they're always there, but
what the Hell, I'm not much threat, my
teeth are dull now, like those of old dogs
who should be left alone.
They don't like that I know where secret
smiles come from; from strange dialogue
with my odd friends and unsung books
and pungent pinyon pines and smooth
Canadian whiskey and a red-haired,
three-fifths Ojibway Michigan girl who's
been trying to keep me honest for
a long while now.
My
life's fine with me.
And when They have a problem,
I just smile, baring my dull old teeth,
representing my people as I do.
*******
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