Report From the End of a Regime

Report from the End of a Regime


There were humans
Sleeping, and the sky ached with dark
As it prepared to give birth to dawn
A chuk chuk of gecko
And a young tradewind
Weaved through the mists
Carrying the essence of a migrating whale
Down the hill in Chinatown
A sailor sodden with war
Zipped up from a piss
And cursed everything he found
In the ruins
One god broke against another
And so it was.

c Joy Harjo November ll, 2004 Honolulu