Drums of Autumn tell us, grandmother,
what did they mean?

Did you ever get the Lincoln cane? Did you cry?

Kenny, I'as a orphan. I never knew.
---That happened, Kenny was my name.

I looked past the rim,
there was the Corn Mother,
I think that's what I coulda seen,

but then it's only Grandma, with a grin.

Kenneth means know, Grandma said, I gave you that name.
kenning handy, a knower, by God,
not handsome in that vain way they have today,
handy,
winsome in puzzles 'n' riddles 'n' such
Kokopelli's play mate, some day.

Mistooken words rot,
if they lie, idle, in the dust
meaning

nothing ever. I shall not want,

I was taught a mistooken truth,
I took it,
gript it tight,

Get a job. Live with some class, join
a club that
takes your kind. Some churches used to
use
the Rotary test, if you could pass that test
you could eat,
after the message at the mission.

true? fair? goodwill? wait

if the first test is failed, what matters?
fair good will benes d'vitas?

from the treaty bound liars who called my grand
mothers savages, all of them,
right by
right of conquest. their treaty verified it to me,

then they gave me blankets,
General Leonardwood,
nope, Lord Jeff Amherst did that, then we died.
Read the treaty, 1763, small print. Blankets.

From the small pox ward, went unsaid.
That was just,
after
the French and Indian war, where the father of
the force that claims world-wide military
superiority
sufficient unto the evil of today,

George, the man on the horse,
surveyor for the future,
fought injuns,
so the king could sell their measured land to freed slaves,

thus making the mortgage chain, so popular today.

Build a casino, get rich quick, it's in the treaty,
lotsajobs,
busboy, bus driver, maid, Sioux chef and so

many, many more.

Grandma, in my vision, turned and walked
into the desert.

I took her word.
Brushed the dust and breathed it in.
Then I spit against the wind,

winked at you and rode my wind away.
Free is easy, if you can ride on wind.

Mouse’s are a famous breed,
From lines of kings they come.
They have a mousey song, and a mousey creed;
They love mousey cheese, and mousey ***.

Mouse’s love spirits, wine, beer, and ale;
They love to chew on cheesy things.
And when they’re drunk, they will regale,
Spouting stories of mousy kings.

In mousey castle, in mousey town,
Lived a mighty mousey king.
And his mousy eyes, looked up and down,
On every big, and little thing.

But his mighty mousy features,
Were struck by mousy mope.
For all his fellow creatures,
Were bereft of ***, and  hope.

“No ***! No ***!”  They cried,
To the king as he passed by.
They wept, and sobbed, and sighed;
“Oh my, oh my, oh my”.

In the kingdom of the mouse,
There can be no greater woe,
Than to find no ***, in house;
It lays the mouse’s low.

“No *** can be got”!
Stated the advisor to the king.
“We’ve all got up, and drunk the lot;
'Tis a sad and sorry thing”.

All the mousy heads,
Hung low in grim defeat.
They played with mousy threads,
With mousy hands, and mousy feet.

But the king of mouse’s rose
Standing tall upon his mitts.
Wriggled in his mousy hose,
And strained his mousy wits.

“Who can build new ***”?
Asked the mighty mousey king.
But all the mouse’s were dumb,
On this mighty mousey thing.

Then from out the bleachers;
Stumbled little Georgey mouse.
A smirk bestruck his features,
He was happy; he was ******!

With mousy hands he gript
A bottle tall and fine
And from its neck he sipped;
A liquor; so divine.

“I shound it through zzat wall”,
Announced little Georgey mouse
“Theresh enough for one and all;
Enough to build a housh”.

He sipped the liquor fair,
And shouted, “What a corker”!
He flashed the bottle in the air;
Black label Johnny Walker.

And all the mousey squeaks,
Wrung cheer from misery.
And the cheers went on for weeks;
“Whiskey! Whiskey! Whiskey!