To the Disappearance

Call me the great Colonizer, the one Who conquers with Abandon and Bible Armed with sword & ideology. Watch Me on the feather of An Angel's wing. I Have seen ancient Tongues disappear With a woman's last Breath. I have seen Ways of classifying The world dissolve With a man's final Heartbeat. I have Calculated salvation One heathen and acre At a time. Watch me Divide the land into Perfect squares, cut The continent in half With silver railroad Lines. With this, I Have cut the skins of Buffalo off their hides And watched the red Man whither on his Weak horse. His drum Nearly quiet, his flute Nearly broken. I am The bullet and flame That destroys silence. I am the holy massacre That pierces a child's Eyes. I am the wool Blanket that incubates Infection. I am all of This in the name of pro- Gress. I am your forced Removal and forced Assimilation. I am your Negotiated treaty with An "X." I am your Bottle of spirits known As manipulation. I am Your headmaster at all The boarding schools, Poised to strike with The ruler and unfazed By your rehearsed tears. I am the recorder of Black and white photos And wax cylinders. I have divvied up the Land in allotments & Called it yours. I have Been certain of your Farming future. I follow You on your powwow Highway and see your Bald tires. I follow your Children to school and Nurture moments of self- Doubt. I am the creator Of political turmoil & Kakistocracies* all across Indian Country. I weave Perpetual stereotypes Of the buckskin and tipi. I listen to your 49 songs— Recognize the yearning In your voice. I hear The Hey-ya, yearning In your voice. I know You sing with your eyes Closed. You sing in Languages that have Started slipping into Mist. One breath at a Time, you sing until Your heart bursts into Memory.