Drowning In A White Man

Originally posted 9/12/2011.

I’m drowning in a white man! Can’t breathe, 
my chest is caving in; no one can see me drowning

for I’ve gone down, down, and down again;
I’ve sunk so deeply into him.

What I wouldn’t give right now
for a pipe and some cold air,

a fire, a circle of singers
around a big, solid drum.

What I wouldn’t give for firm tradition
and family to hang onto,

stories and cousins to pull me up and out.
Not likely. Not anymore.

Instead I’ll grow
thin white gills and survive,  

but I won’t thrive — no.  
What I would have to give to thrive, I will not give.