Sometime around the time I did Step 63, some well meaning people in Shoreview, Minnesota, a western suburb of Minneapolis, decided to stage a poetry slam.  Since I had participated in a poetry slam not too long before that, it seemed like a good thing in which to participate.

As poetry slams go, it was a relatively subdued affair.  I’m telling you about it because the following poem was my contribution to the proceedings.

Choose well

I sure hope you’re in a buying mood today.
Alas, I have no little ideas, only a big idea to sell.
Unite as a race or be slaves; choose well.

A generation seeks a sign.
I have a sign to give.
I give the sign of Cortés of Spain
Who pitted warring tribe against warring tribe.
Cortés, by whose hand the Aztecs fell.

I know you believe you’re advanced, sophisticated, enlightened.
But alas, as far as I hear
You’re just another warring tribesman, just another Aztec
With a 50-megaton intercontinental spear.
Your chariot has a nicer whistle and a bigger bell.
Unite as a race or be slaves; choose well.

A generation seeks a sign.
I have a second sign to give.
I give the sign of Tecumseh of the Shawnee
Who lived and died working to unite the warring tribes
The invaders of their world to repel.

I know you believe you’re peaceful.
But why do you have borders?
Because you’re just another warring tribesman, just another Shawnee
Who hasn’t learned with other nations in peace to dwell.
Unite as a race or be slaves; choose well.

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