I can't remember when I first encountered this poem. I know I stumbled on it accidently, I think while doing some on-line research during my days as an employee of the Smithsonian's National Museum of the American Indian. We had launched a poetry feature called "Pulling Down the Clouds" for our membership magazine, and I was always on the lookout for interesting Native work to run as the focus of the feature.
I knew immediately I wanted this poem in the magazine. I loved its directness, its snarly, unapologetic, in-your-face attitude. Its completely sophisticated, contemporary use of language. This was not work that catered to white assumptions and stereotypes: just the opposite, in fact. Hers is a complex voice in which humor, bitterness, and hipness all coexist in service to the poem. This was a voice like that of many of my Indian friends and colleagues, but one rarely heard by the non-Native world (at least beyond the pages of a Sherman Alexie book).
Further investigation revealed that the poem was written in 1989 and that Diane Burns, a Lac Courte Oreilles/Chemeheuvi, was born in 1957 and had passed away in 2006. She "first emerged," we told our readers, "as a powerful literary voice in the 1970s working as a poet and model in New York City. Burns’s first and only book of poetry, Riding the One-Eyed Ford (Contact II Publications, 1981), further established her reputation as a unique talent by challenging Native American stereotypes through sharp wit and honesty. In the 1980s, Burns joined a circle of poets and writers in Manhattan’s Lower East Side, reading her work at the renowned Bowery Poetry Club and Poetry Project at St. Mark's Church in-the-Bowery."
________________________
Sure You Can Ask Me A Personal Question
How do you do?
No, I am not Chinese.
No, not Spanish.
No, I am American Indian, Native American.
No, not from India.
No, not Apache
No, not Navajo.
No, not Sioux.
No, we are not extinct.
Yes, Indian.
Oh?
So that's where you got those high cheekbones.
Your great grandmother, huh?
An Indian Princess, huh?
Hair down to there?
Let me guess. Cherokee?
Oh, so you've had an Indian friend?
That close?
Oh, so you've had an Indian lover?
That tight?
Oh, so you've had an Indian servant?
That much?
Yeah, it was awful what you guys did to us.
It's real decent of you to apologize.
No, I don't know where you can get peyote.
No, I don't know where you can get Navajo rugs real cheap.
No, I didn't make this. I bought it at Bloomingdales.
Thank you. I like your hair too.
I don't know if anyone knows whether or not Cher
is really Indian.
No, I didn't make it rain tonight.
Yeah. Uh-huh. Spirituality.
Uh-huh. Yeah. Spirituality. Uh-huh. Mother
Earth. Yeah. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Spirituality.
No, I didn't major in archery.
Yeah, a lot of us drink too much.
Some of us can't drink enough.
This ain't no stoic look.
This is my face.
__________________
For more information on Burns, check out this obituary. I don't know if this is Burns herself reading the poem in this clip, but perhaps someone else out there would know.
What an amazing woman. She contributed wonderful poetry. Eileen
Posted by: e.reich | April 25, 2010 at 07:18 PM
thanks,
you go girl
Posted by: dan | August 16, 2016 at 04:57 PM
Absolutely loved this poem!
Posted by: Vivian Cruz | March 04, 2019 at 04:35 PM
Thanks for your comment. Nice to know people are still seeing this post.
Posted by: Terence Winch | March 06, 2019 at 03:50 PM
Thanks for your comment. It's nice to know people are still reading this post.
Posted by: Terence Winch | March 06, 2019 at 04:15 PM
ho yea
Posted by: big bob | October 13, 2019 at 09:51 PM
hash tag no prob giiirrrrll
Posted by: Bjig Bob | October 13, 2019 at 09:52 PM
this is poetry.
Posted by: rylee | May 19, 2020 at 07:39 PM
miss her
Posted by: Dael Orlandersmith | July 03, 2020 at 11:03 AM
Unfortunately, her obituary is not longer active at the link. Thank you for this post.
Posted by: Melissa | August 01, 2021 at 12:07 PM
Thanks for alerting me to that. I'm trying to remember to use the Wayback Machine to create more permanent links, but back then I was unaware of that option.
Posted by: Terence Winch | August 01, 2021 at 12:42 PM
I love this!! I can relate so much to it lol
Posted by: Mia | September 06, 2021 at 10:08 PM
Thanks for your comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | September 07, 2021 at 08:41 AM
Mastery of tone. Wonderful, illuminating poem! Thank you for posting this.
Posted by: Emily Fragos | September 20, 2022 at 09:40 AM
Thanks for the comment, Emily.
Posted by: Terence Winch | September 20, 2022 at 11:46 AM
"No, I didn't major in archery": priceless.
Posted by: David Lehman | September 22, 2022 at 01:52 PM
Great. Thanks.
Posted by: Phyllis Rosenzweig | September 24, 2022 at 11:55 AM