The Invisible Victim

 By Red Ghetto Rebel

March 25, 2015

Lower Brule, S.D.

 

I sat and watched the sun fly by and I slept and dreamt the shadows away, waiting for a tomorrow that never came. The walls of this house echo with depression and my purpose is in vain. Packed into this cube with my uneasy anxiety trying to find the light of day in the eyes of my family. I exist in this cycle of aimless lucidity, waiting for the tick tock of humanity.

I am not free and I am not chained if anything I am the oppressed. The act of this assault comes from the violence around me in this everlasting burden of survivability. We all exist in the dysfunctional motion of corruption. Even as we warm ourselves under the sun, we all click past the notch in this mechanized pit of poverty. Did you ever cling to hunger and when was the last time a worry slipped past you down by the river?

We are victimized and abused by our own mental suffering put there by the branding iron of our reservations last generation. Trapped in this bucket on the evening sunset waiting for the darkness and all the creatures that scurry in its dusk. I am a pessimist and an anarchist because I have no choice. I was defeated long ago by the drugs and alcohol consumed by my parents and the welfare wellspring from which I flow.

We children are born of many fathers each connected to the umbilical cord of demoralized human-hood. The mother and the father no longer have the bond of love, they have the emotional scars of lust and addiction they breed their own afflictions. When we are born into this sadist temple our sacrifice begins. In through the maimed and beaten spirit world of our cluster housing we go, if we survive who knows. 

Everyday is another slippage into the level beneath that which is above the horizon of human decency. Again this existence shivers in the presence of culture and yet again it shakes in the light of hope.

No searchlight guides us in this stormy prairie sea and not one helpless hand reaches out to pull us out of this uncertainty. If there could be any word to define the child plight in this depravity it would be insanity. The mothers and fathers are children themselves. Playing parent for the monthly bloody moon time of social insecurity. This welfare paycheck is the poison that is killing the base soul of our sanity.

The political vultures pick at the flesh of the dead and depraved future that bleeds suicide onto mother earth, while the lunatic leaders vomit laughter into their BIA snot rags as they molest their brood in the name of sovereignty.

The immoral Jandreau colors hide the black and white truth of poverty. Drunk off the fermented fruit of lies and greed these leaches suck to their hearts content the bile of tribal deformity.

The invisible poor haunt the streets of these reservation communities, the victims of chance, born into the ghetto singularity. A young mother with seven fathers can never escape poverty. The womb scarred by the culture of welfare and heart broken by the same. 

Their eyes are watching you, they watch you wait for the next day and the next night. You may not see it but they are learning the culture of poverty and welfare by your example. The boys become fathers to many mothers and the girls become the mothers from many fathers. Ultimately and all waiting for the monthly payday promised them by a dysfunctional society.

There is no self worth in this primordial reservation Christianity. The soap shoved down the throats of our ancestors washed out our hope long ago. 

If you want the truth of why the hanging tree still stands? You need only look at your own selfishness. There is no tall dark man taking the children, there is no spirit that is to blame for the suicides of these children. The evil is you and your own choices. The suicidal children lack hope and love from both their parents not a welfare check momma day fix. 

They are the ultimate invisible victims of the reservation Indians. Only you can change it and only you can prevent it, if it’s not too late. Put down the meth pipe and the wine bottle, cast out your selfishness and materialism, close your legs and wear a condom but for fuck sake do something to save your children.


LONG LIVE THE FIGHTERS

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s