Cherokee
My father was a Cherokee,
he was teaching his children about life,
how to fly a plane [lights off, drunk],
how to drive a car [lights off, drunk]
how to kneel at the bedside and recite the lord's prayer,
and at the end,
a confused crossing motion
and the bit about the bedbugs;
there is a moment's question within me,
he would say,
as he beat the 'bye jesus' out of us.
there is a conflict i cannot swallow-i can't make it go away.
you have inherited this;
when you recover,
you will value that you are still alive....
...do stars matter? do you see the morning sky,
all beginning and full of bloom,
or
do you see the evening sky. all full of room and promise,
and a disturbing loss of time.
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