Poem

Poem


I lower a frayed rope into the depths
and hoist the same old Indian tears to my eyes.
The liquid is pure and irresistible.
---Adrian C. Louis


Could this be like the Trail of Tears
I ask myself, as I crawl inside
the Breakaway Bar, a trail of beers

marking my path like a clumsy deer
stumbling and unable to hide
from hunters on a trail of tears.

You can always find me mumbling here
about how I wounded my knee, pie-eyed
and falling on the trail of beers

picking up scars like roadside souvenirs.
Commodities can keep me pacified
now, on this two-lane trail of tears.

Cashing government checks like a premier
I'm an alcoholic Jekyll and Hyde
in tattered coat, on the trail of beers

giving my last twenty to the cashier
for another case, trying to decide
if I'm crawling along a trail of tears
or drowning myself on a trail of beers.


Sherman Alexie.........from Old Shirts & Old Skins