here the sea is around every bend
over every hill
found in every valley

once she claims you
and she will
you are hooked

The death of you
Is unpicking
All of the stitches
I've sewn up

And the wounds
Are being rubbed
In coarse salt.
Punishing me
For ever forgetting about them.

A case is mistaken,
an ambulance making a turn to the right,
am I right is there popcorn?
is a child due?
or has the baby already been born?

I am torn by the genius that hides behind madness and looks out on Jung who then looks in on me

and they run interference
I am losing cohesion,
incohesive
is not 
as I found to my cost
the same as adhesive
and
I fall apart.

Mrs. Wolfe sat, confused and angry
That Charlie is being sent home.
Suspended for three days.
They refused the in-school community work
For reparation. She preferred the healing circle.
In frustration, she alluded to me being racist.
But I'm Native.
She was exposed. Bewildered and befuddled.
I was born naked, lived clothed, and will die broken.
I am a member of the Tribe.
Contribute to the Band.
I keep the beat, smudge, dance, good at archery,
Can't spear fish, but buy cheap smokes.
My group calls me Fran Dog,
But Proinsias is my native name.
Then came the critical error:
You don't look Native.
Ah, but I am. And you sound racist.
I am native Irish. From Cavan.
I asked for them to leave the door open.

I would ****** my arm
Above the water's edge
If only I could be certain
That you would save me.