Calling to the Badger
Come, let us write of Niagara and the Huron squaws,
The Puritans with their black robes, Dillinger
Like a dark wind. Bring in the advertising men,
So that the strong-haunched woman
By the blazing stove of the sun, the moon,
May come home to us, sitting on the naked wood
In another world, and all the Shell stations folded in a faint light.
Come, let us write of the sadness of the Indian fighters,
The sadness that rises from the death of the Diggers,
From the death of Logan alone in his house,
And the Cherokees forced to eat the tail of the Great Bear.
The old are being driven to Florida
Like Geronimo, and young men are still calling to the badger
And the otter, alone on the mountains of South Dakota.