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Strawberry Field


by Darryl Price


Sitting Bull was the last good man standing 
alone. He was right--they were alarmingly 
greedy and violent. History has 
added, they were also serial liars. 
Crazy Horse trusted the wrong people 
to feed the hungry and weak among his 
worn out tribe if he promised never to 
war again. They were always going to 
kill him, after they starved him first of all 
known humanities. I think you know all 
this. That was not a warrior's death, that was 
a deliberate set-up suicide by 
reservation cop death. Who needs a squad 
when you have such willing executioners? 
That's my problem. The ghost dance was working. 
It still is. Think about that for awhile. 
They gunned down all the dancers, but the 
dance went on. It's still going. It's in the 
wind's words as much as in the growing woods. 
The beat goes on in our lives. The story's 
music will forever be told. Some things 
take as long as they take. But it's something 
they can't erase because they would have to 
erase themselves to do it. They blasted  
the buffalo's numbers for fun and glory 
and didn't use any of it. They'd 
rather let so much wasted food go to 
rot than use it to feed those in dire need. 
They chose to upset the balance of all 
things natural for digging for gold on 
ancient sacred lands. Then they complained about 
a hatchet to the head, as if they 
alone were owed everything, but retribution. 
They got medals for mowing down running 
away women and children and old men, 
burning babies and winter robes as one
pile of rubbish. But remembering to 
stoop and steal any handmade household goods 
for later souvenirs. This was all planned 
out as a giant land grab to accommodate 
the new overseas renters pouring 
in off the long boats by the thousands. 
They sacrificed those who were bravely 
yet barely surviving on the altars 
of false religion and racist nepotism. 
If it wasn't done to be cruel 
and dishonorable, then it was simply 
ignorance disguised as everyone's 
rightful and timely divine duty. The 
world ended the day John Lennon died and 
what took its place was so much meaner than 
anyone could ever have imagined.
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