The Girl Everyone Just Sort of Assumed Was Native American

November 11, 2002

Here is a tale, well-learned, well-told,
about a girl of fifteen years old.
A girl nearly so old she could drive
with pretty brown skin and a look in her eye.
Between that and how she called the corn "maize"
everyone thought her and Indian babe.

Much props was she given, more than her share
for her leatherstocking dress and well-braided hair.
We thought her a mystic with powers bizarre
that she traveled by horse instead of a car;
wise and well-bred, with roots in the earth,
who knew what the wind and the rain were all worth;
that a teardrop would fall from one eye of brown
when someone tossed their litter around.

Maybe, someone said, she lived in a teepee
that's perfect for her, if not ideal for me.
It's possible someone has traded for deeds
this land all around for a necklace of beads.

So flooded with angst and white liberal guilt
we apologized for genocide and buildings we built,
but we found out later it was all for noit
and it turns out she actually came from Detroit!
She's black, not a Native, and now we have no doubt
a million other things to feel guilty about.

Milestones

2001: Bogus office psychic Mazie the chicken predicts radical arab terrorists will attack giant silver towers and a military stronghold on Sept. 10th. An angry Red Bagel eventually takes away her predictions column.

Now Hiring

Nanny. Traditional English dress and accent required, none of that rough Brooklyn flower bullshit. Strong musical training and good voice a must. Should be able to rhyme easily, even if only creating nonsensical words in most of songs. We provide spoonfuls of sugar and medicine, as well as company umbrella. Three references needed.

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