INCIDENT IN HELL
By Carl Rakosi
Our ancestors were happy
when the white man came.
We made him welcome
and took care of him
When he was hungry
we fed him. We never
did him any harm.
He seemed honest
and we trusted him,
but once he was settled
his words became as flimsy
as fluff from a cotton-wood
and he acted like a coyote
around a hen-house.
There was no limit to
his greed and cunning.
His soul glared the way
an owl glares at
a covey of quail-chicks.
He had no mercy,
yet he said
there is a God.
What is he?
Who sent him here?
With that the old chief
his face lines with dignity
said no more
but the agony in his eyes
was like a caged beast
in the Inferno
as it struck bed-rock:
kill or be killed
signed, Playboy of
the Western Hemisphere
Alas, old chief!