by Skyler Reed
All I ever wanted to be in my life is a writer
Actually, that’s not true
What I wanted to be in my life is a dog
In search of truth
That’s not fully accurate either
I really wanted to be a white man
named after a dog
Digging up people’s backyards
Looking for hidden Mayan treasure
Like that earring your aunt Barb lost
During Thanksgiving dinner 1993
I am a liar
I wanted to be Harrison Ford in a
Warner Brothers motion picture
Where he, Gimli son of Gloim, and
A bearded Highlander Sean Connery
Ride culturally appropriated camels
And in his Scottish wisdom says
‘We named the dog Indiana’
Forgive me that my Paiute head is too big
For a film star fedora
Or that I am categorically opposed
To using whips as motivation
For plot devices
As it turns out it’s hard to use the
Apparently limitless Tribal college fund
Normally allocated for community college
And the Sunday shirts & skins bball game
To study at Oxford and become a rogue
Archeologist, ready for action at the drop
Of a hat, stealing artifacts from your own
Relatives away from Nazis just to say
It belongs in a museum
Far from the Badlands of South Dakota
When the dinosaur you’re digging for
Turns up a bone
that looks like yours
And because you’re a professional academic
World renowned published archeologist
You keep digging
To find the skeleton
That belongs in a museum
Is you