*<*>>>> "the leaking unconscious of a confidence critique; a pondering of cracks amoungst conscienceless criminals" (an impromptu indepthing of a surface surfing meme) <<*>*

actually,
he planned a massacre,

arriving at the dawn's early light

(as was their wanton wont)

so they could murder
The People
in their sleeping robes

and light fire
to all their belongings,

fanning the flames
of civilisation's
grand abandonment

to the reinless ravaging

that drained
the waving plains,

staining a terrain
already
ingrained

with that
train
of vain disdain

Christianity's
amassing of clashes

had stashed

with uniformed,
plastiformed,
cookie-cutter
heroes

in its karmically trashed,

steadfastly unabashed

hollowed,
hallowed name

countless times before.

*

apparently this poster general
for sacrifical aggrandisement

and pedestalled poobah
of
poaching,
encroaching,

and coached mass murder,

never grasped
that a host

of friends and relations,

from myriad bands
and neighboring nations

had gathered for the
biggest observance
of the
high holy days

in anyone's living memory.

(for it's said
that reverence attending

the rays of grace
descending

incites in those who gaze

an embrace of the gifts

Great Mystery insights

in sunshine's dazzling haze.)

*

but the (later assassinated)
Hunkpapa holy man,

Sitting Bull

happened on a vision
that enlightened him
on what was to happen. 

and anyway,

a hundred or so
boistrous boys in blue
clattering with weapons,

and addled by their
straddled saddle bags

(stretched with mementos
of victims' noched niches
and privatized parts)

could hardly surprise
a mega village

of ten thousand
democratically
unparalleled,

horizontally assembled souls.

*

the boys entrusted
with the sea of horses
saw them first,

and the
heroes
of The People

donned
their courage
in time

to save

(for the nonce)

their families' lives.

(though many
first person
accounts
survive,

alas!
PBS,

hokus-focused
as the nested
networks

and their empire-mired
public,

doesn't recognise
off-white existence

without a programmed
guide.

and hence
they've never managed

to discover them.)

*

news of this
miraculous blip

in the
gilded annals
progress ascribes

to the relentless strides
genocide unleashed
out of
pilgrims' pride

reached
capital's capital
in the midst
of its

centennial feast
of self-congratulation.

and the 'opposition party'
used this

(inexcusable,

untimely failure

of the
patriots'
planned
massacre)

to embarrass
the symmetrically
opposed

farce in power.

so of course,
preternaturally cruel,

exponential
retribution ensued,

visited on the
"savages."

(one may as well
call them "terrorists"
or "pagans",

for any
enterprising appraisal
of dehumanizing despisal
will do.)

naturally,
(for those who know
anything
about conventional
interventions'
intentions
at all)

more successful
massacres,
assassinations,
and concentration camp
round ups

set things swiftly
back to rights

so the
(apparently divided)

complaisant celebrants of

[[the right to intervene in other peoples']]

independence

[[at the
exceptional whim
of profit's
inviolable will]]

(known in some quarters as "piracy")

could go blithely back
about their
universally applauded,

(mindlessly entertaining
and
exhaustively distracting)

business.

for the heroically
averted catastrophe

was always
and only

about white people

in their
manifestly clotted eyes.

*

so now they call it a "battle"

and,
the (also assassinated)

quintessentially charismatic,
enigmatic and magnetic
Ogalala holy man,

Crazy Horse

(whose simplistic
gringo moniker
attempts to translate

the translucent
transcendence

he,
astride his horse

came to be
known by;

unstilled,
as if dancing,

in a strange mesmeric 'way')

has been appropriated
as an all purpose
didactic example of a

(it goes without saying, demonized)

"chief"

who defeated "the good guys"

on "our side"

in yet another "mistake"

in the power seeking beacon's
never ending
mission
to "civilize"
and "Christianize"

those (undeserving) unpeople

right off the
scarred and harried face

of "its"

"consensus"-according,

border-boarding,

"homeland"-hoarding,

torched
and scorching

earth

with that
brassily trumpeted
unique brand

of righteously projecting,
prospective-protecting,
psychosis-infecting,

ironically-
uninflecting,

democratic spreading of death

from its
exemplary spurting berth

in worth's
shiny dearth.

* *** ***** ** ******* ** ***** *** *
- Evan Hawthorn, the 4^th of July, 2018