Sending the Letter Never Sent
Esther G. Belin
…all I can do is moan.
And, if I didn't tell you,
I would be angry at you for not listening,
blaming you for what I haven't spoken.
—David Mura
And wail
my anger trapped in my own brain cells
the thought behind the unspoken
is more than
what rolls off the tongue
From
those whose tongue is only in the first ceremony
the many ceremonies to follow
voice the unspoken
And those who speak
get plump from decorated shells of modernism
My own shame catches
as my brain shouts at itself
voice cracked and sore
You will not
Listen, I know I told you it before
yea, yeah, Indians have their land stolen
yeah, yeah, it sucks we use them as mascots
yeah, yeah, tell me something new
I want to know why
skins drink so much
call themselves Indians
There's no real reason to complain
we're still around
breeds mostly
blending cultures generic
proud to be made in America
living off the fruits of its land
BIA
CIA
USA
Just say no
Just say it's a long story
my mind is telling
not for just one sitting
hundreds of winter evenings
to tell all these stories
No instant just add water
this is telepathic
Long ago
we believed the same
and difference only made our faith stronger.
“Sending the Letter Never Sent” reprinted from “From the Belly of My Beauty” (c) Esther Belin, University of Arizona Press, 1999. Used by permission.