Post-Reservation Blues

I was up one morning, early on, takin’ Nocoma nice and slow and having a moment with myself. Wonderin’ ‘bout the day ahead and heaven and god when the road lifted through my heavy lids and I was back on the plains headed towards nowhere again...

To the edge of the universe. And this sense of calm washed over me, Lord, like a fog or a three foot wave, but it came crashing down and before I knew it I was back in this town.

And it’s nothing personal, so I don’t take it bad. And this sure as hell ain’t the only place I’ve had turn me down. Yeah, they can kick me out, and I’ll let ‘em believe that they got the best of me. Aw, but they just kiddin’ themselves--I’m the toughest man that these folks have ever seen.

I ain’t got no cause (and there’s nothin’ to lose that I ain’t already lost). All I’ve got are my hands and this pen, my words and this pad, my past and these thoughts. And I ain’t no thief--I’ve just always been poor. And I swear I ain’t no soldier, man, I’ve just been living a war. I do what I can and I don’t do any more.

They ain’t monsters, hon, they’re men. Although, truth be told, they may be worse--I ain’t seen nothin’ like'em. We ain’t the same kind of men--they ain’t brothers or friends. And it ain’t just here or there--it’s everywhere. I ain’t got no home, ma, I been gone for so long it became nowhere.

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