Velroy de-jays the séance-turntables,
spinning black water,
scratching out full moons
with red and blue curves of hip hop.
In the dance club, bodies are a collection
of sunrise songs in reverse.
Corey wears her cat-eye contacts
and no panties.
There’s the bathroom-stall
eagle medicine with Ecstasy placed on the tongue.
She handles the lace like a Kiowa church hymn.
Dee is Cheyenne, Arapaho, Comanche,
Kiowa, and Fort Sill Apache.
He couldn’t enroll into any tribe
but he can grass dance, bump and grind,
and do the Jerry Lewis.
Black girls love him.
Stoney has four wives, Indian way.
He has ghost medicine
and carries a small white ball of clay.
He sells peyote and coke to the white boys.
I have a southern accent.
I killed a Lakota man,
he was a Rollin ’20.
It was with a shotgun.
It was powwow season,
I fancy danced.