We must find our own tribe when we grow up;
we must find our own way and go on quests,
talk to the Great Spirit in our own tongue,
see our animal totems in the sky.
There is no word for homeless in our tongue;
our poetry is language of cherries,
strawberries in the childhood of the year;
grown in eight-sided naked wikiup.
We shall lose the one-time pet wolves of war,
who stirred up our bones from the hot middens;
instead we paint great medicine with sand
in the pattern of friendly divergence.
We were born in war, hands tied behind our backs
with the ropes of blighting, withering dogma;
we were among the packs of earth creatures
that were herding to the Great Extinction.
Taquamenon is boondocks to cultured
Wall Street, but every drop of falling water
is canonized ecology haunting to
our daedal palimpsest nostalgia!
eight-sided naked wikiup - an uncovered wikiup, which has the manitou of deliverance from death, as in the film Melancholia.
daedal palimpsets nostalgia:
daedal - intricately made
palimpsest - rewritten (over)
nostalgia - painful yearning for home.........
Combine with "haunting to our..." and we have " a great urgent desire to return to our original homes which are hard to recognize because they have been written over so many times, and which we shall overwrite and transform."
Wall Street Ecology