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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required It was October 8 Hamas had crashed southern Israel's gate Hang-glided in, guns ablaze. Twelve hundred dead, and yet many gave praise. Then a friend sent me a photo online, Hang gliders coming in, made her feel fine. She said "this is what decolonization looks like." I shut my laptop, went on a ride on my bike. And as I passed under a corridor of Linden trees I thought, “Why doesn’t she live what she believes?” Her home's built on what used to be Cherokee land Why not dis-occupy, take that moral stand? (chorus) Don't just talk the talk Walk the walk Leave the land, if you have a conscience attack Follow the logic and give it back! Her roots are Dutch, with a bit from Spain, A touch of Italian runs in her veins. Self-deport now, so she won't live a lie Get off Indian land, don't occupy. I looked at the Palestinians here, can't they see they're occupying land of the Pequot and Shawnee Not to mention the Paiute and Shoshone Decolonize this native land, go home! I saw the demonstration of Antifa, wielding powered light They shot them into the eyes of police, hurting their sight They chanted "no border no wall" and then added "no America at all!" And I rode my bike past them and tore my hair There's Cuba, Venezuela, unfortunates stuck there Freedom once gone is hard to retrieve. Why doesn't Antifa move there, live what they believe! I climbed Mount Tam and looked around, At fog and sea and sacred ground. Was I rooted in truth or was I a leaf in the wind? But I felt clean, though I have sinned. (outro) I know I’m flawed; I make mistakes— But I walk the walk, whatever it takes.
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