Fighting for Oak Flat/Chi Chil Bildagoteel
“Nobody made a greater mistake than he
who did nothing because he could only do little.”
—Edmund Burke
I.
By the time I get to Phoenix
they’ll be risin’—
oh, resisting, planning and
Organizin’…
They’ll scoff at the judges
owned by the mine—
and rally us ‘round an ol’
Apache shrine…
By the time they make SF
we’ll be waitin’—
In solidarity and agitatin’…
II.
Protect Oak Flat—Chi Chil Bildagoteel—from the
“Doctrine of Discovery” dressed in Forest Service
uniforms. Dressed in war criminal McCain Brooks
Brothers suits; Black robes of Bassackwards Tribes-
men of Thom-ass Clarence-type—fluent in Forked
Tongue; Facile tearing up treaties, temporary in-
junctions, preliminary restraining orders—pen
point/gunpoint…
Apache Land! 1852 treaty never Amended;
Never rescinded—Must be defended against
copper barons of London/Sydney—
Extractor’s blind to sacred springs flowing profit-free…
Person Hoods who blew up aboriginal Australian rock
shelters; confess in corporate catechism that
Straight, no chaser, “focuses on finding, mining,
processing the Earth's mineral resources…”
Protect Oak Flat—Chi Chil Bildagoteel—from
copper-coated vampires with wet dreams of sinking
fangs 7,000 feet deep in soil to hurry slurry—drilling
and spilling—Spilling accidentally on purpose into river;
into aquifer; leaving their Eiffel Tower-sized bite mark
Apache Land! 1852 treaty never Amended;
Never rescinded—Must be defended against
copper barons of London/Sydney—
who give less than a mine tailings’ damn
About acorns, cactus, yucca; About bobcats, black bears,
mountain lions and deer; About Apache prophets, prayers,
religious rites—Removed from Holy shareholders’ wealth—
The Gospel of Greed…
Protect Oak Flat—Chi Chil Bildagoteel—from hearings—
Hearings hearing what’s been heard over and over and
over again: “Bovine dung-Bovine dung-Bovine dung-
Bovine dung—Bull bleep-Bull bleep-Bull bleep-Bull bleep-
Bull bleep—“ or, the sweeter scented and sounding version:
“Blah-blah-blah-blah…”
Inspired by the great Isaac Hayes’s version of the great Jim Webb’s
composition, “By The Time I Get to Phoenix.”
© 2021. Raymond Nat Turner, The Town Crier. All Rights Reserved.
Former forklift driver/warehouse worker/janitor, Raymond Nat Turner is a NYC poet; BAR's Poet-in-Residence; and founder/co-leader of the jazz-poetry ensemble UpSurge!NYC. You can Vote for his work at:
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