Poem for the Native

Kissing James Dean on a Ferris wheel
No I don't feel anything
Corn yellow, pale blue
Kissing the face of a ghost with a name
As the war rages on down below
Between the ghosts with no faces
And the ghosts with no names
I know they're there, I know
The ghosts with no faces, the ghosts with no names
And the voices started to sing:

Silent stone faces
Watch and wait
As the desert blooms and dies and blooms and dies
Bones dry and crumble under neon
And water washes away down through chrome drains

Yes they Sing
Waiting all this time to be heard
Souls hanging in the cold
Waiting for us
Waiting for me
Who was all this time waiting for you, all this time
Like jade
Like long lost buried gold
Old as the sun and the moon
Waiting to bring us all back together again
All this time waiting for us, waiting for me
Who was all this time waiting for you
All this time, all this time
And like drops of rain we will be together again
As a white woman photographed a brown woman
Passed out drunk on a dusty road, wrapped in a stained serape
An ancient queen with cat's eyes stood silent watch over the
Great flowing vein of the Nile
Angry men threw bloody knives into the holy green river
As stony tears cracked and turned to sand
Onyx eyes stared out over a black veil
Fearless and face to face with the past
Tattooed crosses along a strong jaw line
And I heard her say 'I am
And I always have been'
But I will hear them sing:

Silent stone faces
Watch and wait
As the desert blooms and dies and blooms and dies
Bones dry and crumble under neon
And water washes away down through chrome drains