Walking Thunder

I suppose
his ancestors
were brave warriors

but

when he came through
the door drunk
and sat there

telling me that
white folks had killed
his people and that
he was going to kill me if
I didn’t give him some money
“ho-ho-ho, ho-hey,”

all I could think of
was getting him out of there
fast
because he was one mean

mad-drunk Oglala Sioux

and I didn’t want
anything to do
with his private war.

So when he got up
and started after me
I beat it out the door and
Around a truck parked in the
street knowing
he was too drunk to know enough
to wait for me to make the circle.

I was digging
in my pocket all along
for my key

and when I got back in
I locked the door and let him yell
outside.

I understand his brother
was murdered a year or so ago
over in Nebraska by some
drunken whites who cut his balls off.

Ever since the man who was
just sitting here has gone around
threatening to kill people barging
into offices and saying

“I’m going to kill you if you don’t
give me some money.
Ho-ho-ho, ho-hey, I’m going to kill you
right away.”

(This poem was published in North American Mentor Magazine, 1974.)

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About gwpj

Originally from Seattle, I now live in Sapporo, Japan, where I write, explore this city, read widely, and ask questions about things that i see as important. I'm also an author, with three novels published ("The Old Man and The Monkey", "Grandfather and The Raven", and "Bear: a story about a boy and his unusual dog"). For more information about my writing, drop by my website, at www.geogepolleyauthor.com.
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