I Believe in Common
the way my mother reserved simple
to be a compliment
like those most basic of things
say
dirt salt bread
unadorned no pretense common man
common merganser
the way I feel when I watch a mother
merganser push her babies
over and over up the creek’s rocks
an act of simple perseverance
the patience of common
the way it keeps the world spinning
Verse Virtual July 2021
Miner’s Daughter Comes of Age
1919 Cardin, Oklahoma
my mama
be gone seven years
found her all bloodied
a crochet hook up
her privates
nosey church ladies descend
cut up her ol’ dresses making me all new garb
like they doing me a favor
don’t want that kind of remember
still can’t stop the picture
just keeps rewinding
blood everywhere
no more brothers, no more sisters
now I’m twelve
got myself all this responsibility
and I hear the whistles blow
three short, twelve in a row
everyone knows what that means
and me
can’t figure how I certained
just knew
when they carried Daddy
up the shaft in that awful cage
looked all around me
saw them wide-eyed wives
whispering rumor chatter
and then the hoistman brung up
his crew
they won’t even look at me
just heard them mumbling
one tiny rock
saw his chest rise and fall
rise and fall
and I get to praying to Jesus
I sit vigil
four forever days
when his chest goes flat
you think they was scared
leavin’ worried ’bout their
papa-less mama-less child?
An old family friend told me her mother’s and grandmother’s story. The health conditions in the mines and mining towns made bringing another child into the world daunting. (personal communication Oma Potts)
from Once Upon a Tar Creek: Mining for Voices
Incompetent Restricted Quapaw Indian about 50 Years Old
1924 Griffin cemetery Quapaw Agency Oklahoma
now you see him
now you don’t
there he is
lined up with the old Quapaw men
still had his hair those days
all smoky black braids
look careful again
see his fist
hold that old lump
of lead
he carried it back then
made him rich
but now they call him crazy
incompetent
give him a guardian
send him to Hiawatha
Insane Asylum for Indians
way up in South Dakota
no more money
no more self
do gooders write a book
Oklahoma’s Poor Rich Indians
An Orgy of Graft and Exploitation
get folks all stirred
close down Hiawatha
town fathers buy up the place
build themselves a golf course
right over his crazy dead Indian
brothers and sisters
back to the Agency
mute now
lips sewed tight
now you hear him
now you don’t
“Robert Thompson, an incompetent restricted Quapaw Indian about 50 years old. He was sent to an Insane Asylum when the present guardian took charge of his estate, a little over two years ago, $24,000 was receipted for. The Liberty Bonds and all securities have been disposed of, and the balance on hand (November 1913) amounted to $54.40.” (Oklahoma’s Poor Rich Indians)
Thompson was sent to the Hiawatha Asylum for Insane Indians in Canton, South Dakota. Hiawatha was one of two federal asylums in the United States. It was closed in 1934 following investigations into horrendous conditions. Hiawatha was designed specifically for America’s Indian population. When the asylum was closed, the town of Canton built a golf course over the graves of patients who had died there. See Zitkala, Fabens, & Sniffen (1924) , Joinson (2016), Leahy (2009) for a better understanding of “Canton-Hiawatha Asylum for Insane Indians.” Also, Nerburn (2013) for an account of a young girl sent to Hiawatha and her family’s search for her story.
from Once Upon a Tar Creek: Mining for Voices
William Hezekiah Cantwell at the Oregon State TB Sanitarium
Salem, Oregon 1945
now I lay
me in scrubbed white sheets
the south window
brings as much sun
as an Oregon sun can do
my eyes never quite right
to light
after all those years
underground
I remember the kids
how they swung
from my stretched out arms
how I could pick and shovel all day
and still fiddle
at the barn dances come night
how finally it was time
to get out
before the dust
ate me up
we packed the old rattle trap
with mattress on top car
Okies headed for Oregon
where green became my Nellie’s
favorite color
now I cough red
they think my oldest daughter
got this TB, too
and her with a new young one
that dust
it just keeps chasing
If you were fortunate enough to escape falling slabs, tiny rocks, and overturned ore buckets you were likely to develop a case of what the miners called ‘miners con’—an almost death sentence. Silicosis lead to decreased working ability, coughing, weight loss, weakness, and respiratory infections, including tuberculosis. In the 1930s, Ottawa County had the highest tuberculosis mortality rate in the United States. See Rosner and Markowitz (2006) and Gibson (1972) for information regarding health conditions and mining in the Tri-State Mining District.
from Once Upon a Tar Creek: Mining for Voices
Picking Blackberries with My Mother
Fifty Years Ago
my blackberry fingers
lick my mother’s hand
her voice whispers
between
a rock
and the hard place
of tiny graves
she holds fast
my fist
that I might stay
on this side of the cliff
not lost in clouds
or wherever
my baby brother
slipped away
from River, also Stoneboat Literary Journal
every poem
I have ever written
begins right here
at this river
where grandmother and mother slip
down the rocks
to bend, squat, see
really see
these pebbles, this cold
cold water
and I tip toe into the rush
of it all
knowing this is where
I belong
and how sixty years
will pass
but one tiny breath
of river
will carry me
forever
from The Water Poems