26. Mexico
there is a Mexican woman
who lives in the dark of night
whose name is Heavens Delight
there is a God
Who purchased the earth
Who spoke and pointed to This Mexican Star
and though she was high up in the sky
The Indian Man saw her there
through a hypocritical Priest
she is called Heavens Delight
The Indian Man bought her there
and beautiful she is
upon the lips of every Indian Man
she kissed the breath of Heaven
and in the eyes of every Indian Man
she danced the song of paradise
take me back
the dark night would here The Mexican woman cry
take me back to before the dark night
the night The Indian Man pulled me down from the sky
upon the lips of every Indian Man
she kissed the breath of Heaven
and in the eyes of every Indian Man
she danced the song of paradise
Mexico
27. Sweden
Pony
Pony imagines her life away
she sits in bed with her teddy bears
and plays family and friends
no Indian Man wants her but to Pony her
her little dog house
has a little toy dog there too
she puts real milk out for it
she pretends she is nursing
as though she squeezes milk from her breast
tears fall down into that milk bowl
and a mouse drinks the milk away
then leaves and Pony cleans up the mess
Pony is a good Swedish woman
she bears the pains of many reserves
she was taught to pray for all Indian Men
by The Reservation Hypocrites
a lot of Indian Men go to use Pony
but none care for her
they just throw her family down in a corner
and leave her friends behind
Pony picks her friends up
reorganizes her family
and her tears fall down into that milk bowl
and a mouse leaves a mess behind
none care for her
but all Indian Men come to use Pony
Pony
Sweden
28. An American Woman Called Chasis, Bodyville
I am an American woman
I was taken from a town called Chasis
it was down the road from Bodyville
where they designed what I was to look like
Muffler-Town was around the corner
it sounded like the noisiest place on earth
I remember the paint and the chrome
I remember the four door and the two door
and the Muffler-Town moan
I remember the oil and the gas
the fuel that lit up the night with lights
after I was sold
I remember the radio music
I remember the automobile automatic windows
I remember the white walled tires
I was a car filled with good things
I was a car from Chasis-Town
I am an American woman
I looked like and came from Bodyville
no-one could argue with my guts
because they were from Engine-Works
and my Muffler-Town mufflers
sounded the very best
I was used as a car to wreck by bad men
I had the paint and the chrome
and the Muffler-Town moan
the wheels that were to take me places
were from none other than Wheel-Spin
I was used as a car to wreck by bad men
I was from every good place
I was built up by the very best
I was used as a car to wreck by bad men
I was everything that a car could be
and as I walk out of the "rent a car girl" car lot gate
and see the paint and the chrome go by
I remember where I came from
29. Rainbow Is Our Name
Rainbow is Our name
We are Central Plains American Women
We are born on The Indian Reservation
We dance through the act of The Rock Spirits Crystal Light
We wear the spectrum colours
and the colours of the sun, moon and man made light shining through stone
We are The Rainbow Women
We stand on Spirit Rock and are strong
We stand in Spirit Light and are wise
We dance upon Spirit Stones
Rainbow Women dance upon The Rocks that Rock Spirits inhabit
all our colours want to come forth and show Glories Of The Light
We are drenched in Spirit Shine
Spiritual Storm Clouds try to whirl Us through the sky with their turbulance
straight into falling ice crystals
and dash Our Glories into what We are told are Martyred Haloes
but We are strong
We stand on Spirit Stone
but We are wise
We stand in Spirit Light
Spiritual Storm Clouds cannot catch Us
We dance in the rain under The Rainbow
through the act of The Rock Spirits Crystal Light
30. poor little Pot Barleys
poor little Pot Barleys
smashed in like Mexican Corn
Indians poor little Pot Barleys
all spit out
to Bad Men second best grain to eat
next to Mexican Corn
Indians poor little Pot Barleys
all in a row
looking for daddy
and hoping for mommys care
Indians poor little Pot Barleys
Their hope chests filled
with hearts of brokenness
Indians poor little Pot Barleys
all moms little dreams
from her birth she imagines Them
from marriage she concieves Them
from travail she delivered Them into th;is world
and with her face in the dirt
she remembers Them
all spit out
hoping for moms care
with hearts of brokenness
smashed in like Mexican Corn
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