After Raj Chakrapani, Natalie Diaz, and Theodore Roethke

Long hair, long nails, long ago:

A derby hat spun from a saloon
window. Glass sprayed on the street.

A brick house washed
in dust. A cloud
that could be a storm. A laugh
launched into space. 

The things I steal are what I am.
The feather in my fist
becomes a flock that never lands, a sky

bleeding behind me, prairie grass stooped
in its wind. I learned Listen
in a country of lies. The oldest story

begins with giving. It ends
with taking away.