Thomas Disch's LJ (RSS Feed)
03-05-2008, 08:37 PM
The sky was like a map of North America,
the dwindling blue representing those parts
still inhabited by Indians, the white
(the cloudlands) everywhere the White Man
would take over. Minute by minute
his encroachments grew. You knew
the indigenes were doomed. Their languages
would disappear. Their squaws would die
of wasting fevers the wisest shaman could not cure.
At last there'd be no blue at all,
just mounds of cloud, just us.
(Original Post) (http://tomsdisch.livejournal.com/179840.html)
the dwindling blue representing those parts
still inhabited by Indians, the white
(the cloudlands) everywhere the White Man
would take over. Minute by minute
his encroachments grew. You knew
the indigenes were doomed. Their languages
would disappear. Their squaws would die
of wasting fevers the wisest shaman could not cure.
At last there'd be no blue at all,
just mounds of cloud, just us.
(Original Post) (http://tomsdisch.livejournal.com/179840.html)