Nights ‘Round Here Devour Us

Nights ’round here devour us, and by dawn we are dead One Christmas I witnessed the tribal police lights dancing with the festive for a boy with no head who blew his brain matter out into star whites

Out on the ol’ homestead with the highway in his sights I was on that blacktop wearing down my tread after thirteen hours straight and looking a frights Nights ’round here devour us, and by dawn we are dead So greets the prodigal upon returning to this dread

with normalcy packaged in presents so brights here casinos rule, and on leftovers we are fed One Christmas I witnessed the tribal police lights

Christmas turns into New Year’s, we are flying like kites A mother buries her son, still he’s made of lead weighing down her dreams plagued by the old fights dancing with the festive for a boy with no head

Slamming the front door, she sat in her car, it was said then come the bullet sending them on separate flights wish I’d the magic to have fixed the boy who bled who blew his brain matter out into star whites

Those who rise above here make it on their mights for on a U.S. state map we are outlined in red folding in with the darkness I come down from the heights I light a candle for him, and through despair we are wed

Nights ’round here devour us.

Anna Nelson (Crow/Seminole) is from Crow Agency, MT, and is currently a student at the Institute of American Indian Arts (IAIA) in Santa Fe, NM. She is a double major in New Media Arts in moving images and New Media, and often blends the two genres. She is scheduled to graduate in 2012 with a Bachelor’s of Fine Arts in both majors. After graduation, she plans to continue studying at IAIA and receive her Master’s Degree in Creative Writing. She would like to thank her mentors, including Arthur Sze, Jon Davis, Evelina Lucero, James Stevens, and Mark Turcotte.

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