The Poetry, If You Will, Of Life

We're All Travelling Heavy With Illusions.

I Don’t Want Long Hair, I Don’t Want Short Hair, I Don’t Want Hair At All, And I Don’t Want To Be A Girl Or A Boy. I Want To Be A Yellow And Orange Leaf Some Little Kid Picks Up And Pastes In His Scrapbook.

I Write In Blood Because I Remember What It Felt Like To Bleed.

Certainly I'm Angry At The Way Indians Have Been Treated And Continue To Be Treated. But I Don't Think It's A Helpless Emotion.

In The Middle Of The Night, When You're Ambiguously Ethnic, Like Me, When You're Brown, Beige, Mauve, Siena, One Of Those Lighter Browns In The Crayola Box. You Have To Be Careful Of The Cops And Robbers, Because Nobody's Quite Sure What You Are, But Everybody Has Assumptions.