The great buffalo

Was a great liar. 

He promised food

And warmth

And sustainability.

If only love was not a scarcity!

If only the herd was not forced

Moved along plains to 

Find greener grass

And I, opposed 

Would be rammed against with


And grunts

And as beautiful the day 

I could not see past the landscape

When my sole resource 

Was my souless buffalo.

The great, mightly, buffalo!

Strong and sturdy,

Surviving of shaky winds and cold nights

And how?

The great buffalo

Can only be as tall 

As his highest stepping stool 

And only as rich 

As ads can persist 

Him to be

And though he comes home 

With sharpened horns

He is our 


He is 

The great 

The sacred 

The head of 

The table

He flexes 

And takes arms against me

And the world applauds our dance

While I plead to be free

From the suffocating fur

The great buffalo

Did not expect 

To be hunted. 

For he was a great liar 

And to himself, he agreed 

That he was higher than life itself. 

That I would not be waiting 

In the tall grass of our kitchen

With an arm just as strong

Or that I'd cock the gun 

And take back 

The greatness

He stole from me. 



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