I POSTED MY GRIEVANCE
So I posted my grievance to the
fieldstone office : lightly, with but
a light hold on the trigger, I said
what was on my mind. The sort
man in charge, I noticed, was
muscle-bound, but dumb as a
hearse. In silence, he took down
a cage from the wall asked if I
wanted a monkey.
-
Where the maple trees used to
be, it's now all paved. They cut
everything down last year, which
was bad enough, but now they've
come in with tractors and are
laying down macadam. There
are, as well, new buildings across
the way, and all we get are those
sari-clad Indians walking, like
they're afraid of the world.
-
I think that's what gets me the most :
Them, being here, and now fearful
of everything. The old ladies walk
like the Earth was going to open
up and snatch them. The men all
seemed dazed: afraid of dogs and
cats, mosquitoes and even birds.
-
Jesus glory almighty, this is where
we live and what's the matter with
you? It's not enough you walk around
like that and need abide your every
need, but you in turn now want
everything back from us? Our earth
and land and living space? I do
not understand your case, nor what
you may be meaning to say. I've
posted my grievance, OK. (Your
sacred monkey now can stay).
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