A Poem by Coyote Poetry
My father taught me to appreciate laughter and woman.
(My father was a Ojibwa/Mexican man in 1950 USA. He never allowed anyone to look down at him.)
Father didn’t drive no Cadillac.
He drove a old Pontiac.
He never complains.
He worked his 50 hours a week and
he paid his bills and drank his beer and rum.
He got loud with his friends.
He likes the rum.
When the rum was plenty.
I heard him wish for things to be different.
He wanted his children to have all the good things.
All children had.
He told me to get a education and more education so no-one will look down at you.
Father never had a lot.
He has learn to accept little.
I remember one Winter evening.
When he has too much rum.
He packed up the car.
He wanted to escape to California.
We would drive a few miles and he would fall asleep.
A attempt to escape his world.
With no escape for this Ojibwa/ Mexican man.
Sometime I drink the whiskey
I laugh like my father.
I am thankful for men like him.
So many walls he torn down.
So I could have a good life.
My children can be proud to be Ojibwa/Mexican man or woman.
Father drove a old Pontiac.
He loved that old car.