I am thankful for coffee
but who died to get me this coffee
to bring it here to the United States
the genocide capital
the genocide kings
Proud people perished
digging for gold
long before Kayne West
and the beat
long before newspapers
and grief
Gaza has got me thinking
'bout the Trail of Tears
Cherokee nation
returning
to find itself
burned on the inner sunburn of the skin of the cat
the snake keeps on turning
pushing up against the sides
of the soapbox
on the bully pulpit
preaching to an empty room
of Zombies on their cell phones
one looks up.