Marching Against The War

The Oglala braves wanted my scalp
for dating Marty Clifford, Sioux goddess,

marching towards the Capitol in Lincoln,
a horse-drawn paddy wagon

following behind us,
we were idealistic

marching against the war in Nam
not knowing we’d despise

those same Vietnamese who’d microwave
their fish in our breakrooms at work,

living in homes financed by the government
while we lived in crime-infested barrios,

desolate reservations,
growing old disgracefully.