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Guest Writer Spotlight: Squating Thomas Firestep  Hello. I am Fourty Seven years old. And I am Native American.
There is nothing worse than being Native American. When I was born on a small dusty reservation many moon ago, my grandfather would fondle my ass and tell me it secret Indian ritual. It Not. Me once had girlfriend. She told me to give her money and she would touch me in eagles eye of crotch. She not touch. She Run with money. When I was young man, and strong like shitting ox, Me had the idea to kill Cowboy. I took ax and arrow. Cowboy had gun. Me get shot. As a younger man my father told me to collect sparrow feathers from the tree tops. I climb and climb. Bird shit all over tree tops. Bird shit slippery. Me fall down. Me go to bars frequently. I drink much, me feel good, like rock. I drink too much too much. Stomach screams with firewater. Me Shit pants. Being Native American stink. White Man get all the pussy. I don’t like my own people either. They smell and fuck things up. I hate eagle. I hate prancing cat. I hate being so feeble. But hey. At least me not Black. 2004 |
