Pseudo Culture
by T. Zoey Benally

Walk with my son, thirteen, Traipse across the bridge.
I retell tales of my day, Chapter House presentation, Navajo town hall.
Report in English, hold my breath, cross my fingers,
Hope the elders understand.

An older gentleman stands and says, "What have we done to our children?
We told them, go to school, learn & come back,
but now they don't know their language."

...for the first time, it was NOT MY FAULT.
My alleged arrogance, my supposed laziness – NOT RESPONSIBLE.

Lee chaii ei lizhin. Masi ei ligai.
Naa a hoohxai ei lichii.
Dine bizaad ei shil naantlah.

My daughter hears 30 minutes of Navajo words each day.
Nouns, adjective lists--even though
Navajo is verb driven--object lists, key phrases, are the core.

My son & I, both NM state public school bilingual program products
Decide to compare notes, play a game, carry on a conversation.
He can’t ask how my day was, can only tell me,
“The sky is blue.” “The car is black.”
I can only answer, “My name is Zoey.” “I am from Shiprock.”
“My eyes are brown.”

Shi deezhi tadiin do biann taa’ bi naa hxai.
To deel chxooshi t’aalai do bi aan naki yaal ba iili.
Abiinigo ashdla’ doo alnii oolkil ayoo shil ya’a t’eeh.
Dine bizaad do shil di’ in diin da.

Endangered language criteria defined by…
Total number of fluent speakers – 173,800. Mean age – 24.4.
Youngest generation acquiring language fluency –
50% of rez kids speak Navajo.
Aunts, brothers, grandmothers, fathers, sisters, uncles
Still HAVE the language, but there are only 2000 elders left,
And my friend laments that birthday parties, and family reunions
Are fast becoming the new Navajo ceremonies.

Iil whoosh! Sinida! Iiya! Noweh! Jaa’ii! Ma’ii!
Naa’ii! Bidii! Yaa di lah! Ge’sho!
Al k’I daa’ dii t’ei ya shil bee hoozin n’tee.

My mom & dad used Navajo as their secret language
To discuss going to town, the carnival, store.
My uncle made fun of the way I pronounced Navajo words,
said I spoke like the Catholic priest.
My mom REFUSED to teach me Navajo because she didn’t want me
To be punished in school, Did not want me to speak Navajo & suffer
--Knees on rice grains, beaten by rulers,
Afternoons smelling corners.
BIA boarding school matrons told MY mom
That Navajos were primitive,
Lower in the evolutionary chain, closer to monkeys.
Told MY mom she needed to give up her language, culture, identity
Take on white culture so she could progress.

Hat’ iish banina? Di kwiish beeso ne hoolo?
Haadee’ nanina? Dine bizaad bohoosha
Shika’ anilyeed.

oneword: Alarm

She croons through viscous velvet curtains of slumber
Extols how she wishes she "was the moon tonight"
Crisp snap of flint on flint
Ignites another nights worth of dreams
Intices my mind to linger
In the divine hammock of sleep.

Uncle Became Water

Spread apart, much more, but still aware
Clouds, low hung fog & mist
Deep pools explode with ripples
Suspended molecules
Amplify sight and sound
He was no longer condensed

He always liked when his sisters,
When his wife, when his neices and daughters
Proudly talked about their kids
Smiles through veils of tear sparkles
So he became those tears

He sent them smiles through tears
Different cloud colors and textures
Smeared across the sky
He dropped spectrum bands
Down the subtle blue curve
He finally understood
Paintings he saw at museum gallaries in Phoenix

He soaked tumbleweeds
That clung to fences
Till they resembled
Sponges squeezed and placed
On white enamel sink edges to air dry

He sent turbulent, jubilant, curly haired waves
Down sandy arroyos
Rushed, boiled emotion he felt
For those left behind
But also excitement at the unfurled path ahead

Finally he sent grey skies
Let it all go skies
He darkened highways and wet the sand red
He filled their nostrils with fragrant herb sage
And he washed the olive drab pollution band
That he always hated from the horizon

Sunlight

Voracious heat descends through
warms my lips
More evenly than hot blood
rushing up to meet a kiss
Illuminates orange whole notes
through diaphanous eyelids
Dazzle refracted off burnished jet eyelashes
Casts irregular light shards
mistaken for lightning, lasers
or petulant phantasms
Solicitous UV rays rub
sooty pink back into my cheeks
I swim up from stiff edge
sea weed wedge depths of sleep
Turn my head and relish
the mellifluous nibble
of warm sunlight on my neck.

Listen to Silver Salmon

Silver Salmon, aka, Happy Poem 2 of 2
Silver salmon leaps fluidly over lanky waves of dried grass
Green, washed and faded to lemon-straw by alternating
Rain-sun, rain-sun, rain-sun-wind, wind, sun, rain
Chlorophyll filtered and drained downhill, soaked into black earth
Color cycled out, bend-straight, straight-bend, malleable metal

Silver salmon, Athena, reflects UV rays off her lithe body, shimmers
Vaults, arcs, belly barely grazes golden upstretched hulls
Seeds, a season ago, thumped from pods and pulled by gravity
Onto coffee colored soil, Imbibed by Mother Earth
Simmer, bubble with sprouting laughter, jokes saved for next Spring

Silver salmon reveals flecks of black, copper, and white
She is camouflaged, Absorbed into a tangle of mysterious
Roots, hollow stems, stern granite rocks, dirt and iron shadows
Silver salmon pounces on scurry vibrations, slither tailed inspiration
For the Sgt. Pepper Inner Groove, conspiracy to annoy dogs

Silver salmon is an ornate kite, she ascends and plummets
Effortlessly traverses the knees and pockets of well-worn denim skies
I watch and enjoy her dance and sway to Troposphere currents
Tethered only by the ball of cotton string, rolled in my palm
Dark eyes look back, Confident that I will not let go

Happy Poem 1 of 1
(Written on 2010 1028)

Today I’m writing you a happy poem
Counter balance to… Well, you know.
Paper airplane armada expertly flung out
Flight plan that reads only - Far, Fast, and For a long time!
Engineered wings creased and dreamt into existence
By bare fingernails kept way too short

Today I want you to be there with me
Let’s forget all that… Well, you know.
Lying, backs pressed into grass
Under the hushed bowl of night
Identifying stars, small droplets of shining blood
Nimble fingers pricked by sharp needles

Today I wish would share a taste
Crave and hunger for… Well, you know.
Flaming sweet peach snapped off un-green twig ends
Leathery shocked oblong leaf swish, Pause
Gold fruit serum trickle across your palm
Dissolved sugar soaked into your sleeve

He must have super powers
(Written 2010 1006)

He must have super powers
Spandex suit tucked under
His t-shirt and jeans
Mask and secret identity
Stuffed into his back pocket
Not the one with the wallet
The other one.

He must have super powers
The power to see invisible people
Doctor Xavier with his very own Cerebro
Brainwaves amplified and honing in
On mutant brainwaves
Invisible folks picked out
Small pebbles in the tread of a shoe

He must have super powers
Or maybe he just doesn’t believe
In my powers of invisibility
Harry Potter cloaking device
But knocking stuff over and sneezing
It must have been the foot prints
In the snow that gave me away.

I tried to be still, to breathe
Quietly, evenly
But he detected.
A tremor in the force?
Infra-red thermal sensors perhaps?
Dang it! I should have covered myself
In cold mud on the way to class
Slid down rain soaked hills,
Wallowed in freezing puddles
Gnawed on handfuls of ice
So that I would be able
To back bend under radar limbo sticks
So that I would be able
To avoid detection

Perhaps he was just humoring me
Amused by my futile attempts
To impersonate furniture
Chameleon skills totally imagined
His keen powers of observation
Zeroing in on rough edges
As I tried my best to match the décor
Smiling while I closed my eyes
And told myself, “I’m invisible!”

Roadrunner & Coyote
(Written 2010 1006)

What is the name of the road runner,
The one on Looney Tunes
That one…
From Saturday morning cartoons,
Cartoon Network or Nickelodeon equivalent,
Back in the day
When NBC, CBS, and ABC
Came hopping into our homes
Through analog rabbit ears
Poking up from vacuum tube televisions
That one…
Purple head
Matching Vegas showgirl
Cabaret feathered headpiece
And flightless Tyrannosaurus rex wings
Periwinkle blue body, orange beak, and legs…
Legs that stretch out all the way
From Chicago,
Through Saint Louie,
OK-C
Amarillo
Alba-Koi-Key
(site of the ill-fated left turn)
Winslow
(site of the historic corner)
And on to Los Angeles
You know EXACTLY which road runner I’m talking about

For me the name of that road runner is “Mu”
I am Wile E. Coyote
And on my business card
Below my name
“Super Genius”
And true to cartoon physics
I am fanatical
Forever chasing the mean
Self-imposed quarantine
Typhoid Mary of
The Mother Highway
That held the hands of other coyotes
And ushered her yellow eyed offspring
Out of the Dust Bowl
Led them gritty eyed
Eyelashes and ear turns
Frosted with pulverized earth
Led them west to California
Bits and pieces abandoned
Baby dolls, mattresses, a chair here
Pots, spare tire, pans
A chair there, kerosene lamp, pawned heirloom ring
In exchange for a clean bed, slice of pie
Gallon of leaded gasoline
Hot cup of coffee, cream and sugar
In towns like Foss, Wildorado, Thoreau, Two Guns
Towns not mentioned in song
Led them to where their eyes
Would match the setting sun
And true to fanaticism
I have lost my aim
But continue to redouble efforts
In search of that elusive mean
Coated in synovial fluid
And armed to the teeth
With cheerful, Beep, Beep—ZOOM!-s

Anvils, Birdseed, Grenades, Spears
Rockets, Mouse traps, Rope
Giant magnets, Suction cups, vitamins
Sledge hammers, Giant springs
TNT, Black & White Paint for Targets
DIY Kits for Bombs, Giant Magnets
Huge Rubber-bands, Flight suits, Pulleys
How to Books, Cannons, Ammo, Wrecking Balls
All manner of swag purchased
Via US Postal Service mail
Delivered General Delivery into the desert
From A Company that Makes Everything—ACME!
Configured into elaborate Rube Goldberg devices
Exploiting the hell out of simple machines
Blue print plans drafted out on vellum in India ink
Incorporating deadly levers
Diabolical pulleys
Sinister Inclines
In the privacy of a sandstone cave

But in the end
Arms outstretched, fingers grasping
I am never allowed to catch that road runner
Legs flailing, trying to speed up
Defeated by my own ineptitude and gravity
I continually fall into the sandstone abyss
Crushed by boulders
Insignificant puff of dust
Humiliated Super Genius shaped hole
Stamped on the canyon floor

Not nearly 2 minutes
(Written 2010 0908)

Back space erase, Back space erase, Back space erase
My thumbs holding down the left lying pentagon harboring an X
Obliterating fugacious text message evidence
Before it has time to submit a request
for “real boy” status from the Blue Fairy Send
Allowing it time to effervesce
and volatilize back into unposed queries
Before it is hurled through
the ether of time and space by the lurking Send button
Before it answers yes and no questions
created by innumerable virtual realities
You’ll never know how many times
it was on the tip of my thumbs
To invite you to be my Clyde
To abandon your streak free picture window existence
For a momentary life of crime.