Paleface by Pris Campbell

Always the Indian, never
the cowboy in childhood,
he painted his face with
purloined lipstick
and day-glow magic markers.
His mission….to save the world
from the paleface, spreading
like hungry ants in their search
for gold and buffalo hides.
If he had his way, the plains
would be covered again with tepees
and crackling campfires sending smoke
high into jet free air.

Had he been Tonto, the Lone
Ranger would’ve been on the next
ship back to England.

He still paints his face when the moon
is full, dances the secret dance,
aims smoke from his peace pipe
towards Washington, ever hopeful
the politicians will strip
to loin cloth and begin dancing
the peace dance, too.

5 Responses to “Paleface by Pris Campbell”

  1. A.,D. Winans Says:

    Really like this poem, Pris. Is this a new one?

  2. Arlin Buyert Says:

    I like this one a lot!

  3. A.D., yes, this is a new one. I’m glad you like it

    Thank you, too, Arlin.

  4. Lovely, Pris. A bit of humour, nostalgia and hope.


  5. I appreciate your comment, Marion!

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