Buffalo Jump
Some cliffs beg to be spring-boards
this garbage dives to its death
on generations of buffalo bones
there she sits, on her haunches
peering across the coulee
she's guarding the bones
guarding the garbage
and she breathes a veil of smoke
around her wind-shredded grocery-bag hair
I go to her, kneel before her
where shall I place my offering
Goddess of the Garbage, Lady of the Refuse
can you open your cloak wide enough
for all my mistakes?
and she takes a buffalo's shin bone
turned to stone, strung with tin cans
and she drums on a water heater
drums in the thunder
her long breasts sway
in the wind before the storm
and I dance and I dance till the rain comes in
she smudges me with an exhale of her smoky breath
Go, she whispers. Everything is for always.
© Soma 2002
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