Three Stories & Ten Poems

<h2><SPAN name="OK"> OKLAHOMA </SPAN></h2> <div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> <div class="line"> All of the Indians are dead </div> <div class="line"> (a good Indian is a dead Indian) </div> <div class="line"> Or riding in motor cars— </div> <div class="line"> (the oil lands, you know, they’re all rich) </div> <div class="line"> Smoke smarts my eyes, </div> <div class="line"> Cottonwood twigs and buffalo dung </div> <div class="line"> Smoke grey in the teepee— </div> <div class="line"> (or is it myopic trachoma) </div> </div> <div class="stanza"> <div class="line"> The prairies are long, </div> <div class="line"> The moon rises, </div> <div class="line"> Ponies </div> <div class="line"> Drag at their pickets. </div> <div class="line"> The grass has gone brown in the summer— </div> <div class="line"> (or is it the hay crop failing) </div> </div> <div class="stanza"> <div class="line"> Pull an arrow out: </div> <div class="line"> If you break it </div> <div class="line"> The wound closes. </div> <div class="line"> Salt is good too </div> <div class="line"> And wood ashes. </div> <div class="line"> Pounding it throbs in the night— </div> <div class="line"> (or is it the gonorrhea) </div> </div></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />