DARK ENTRAILS

Change vomited dark entrails Of the bald vulture on my clan; We were buried, One after the other, In the belly of the village stream, And pulled out Almost immediately To choruses that had no place When waist dance shared peace From the full moon; We have brayed and prayed In the names of strange ancestors Printed in a book of curses, blessings, And chronicles of their blessed exodus But we have been sinking Down the understream Among the half dead and the forgotten; We reek of bile throws From a turn in history When our men were led from line By yellow ants Thus change has treated MY clan this badly.