USA, Native American Nation sanctions Same-Sex Marriage

I'm not sure why I had to find this out from an Italian source, but here is an interesting story (my translation):

The Suquamish (http://www.suquamish.nsn.us/), a Native American Nation located in Washington State, has legalized same-sex marriage. The France Press news agency has reported that the decision was made by the tribal council, consisting of 7 members, at the request of a young lesbian woman. "It is our tradition and our culture to be inclusive and accepting of those who may be different," declared their legal counsel. The Suquamish have thier own constitution and they can deliberate independently on various issues: this decision, however, only has value within the Suquamish Nation.

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The source:

http://www.uaar.it/news/2011/08/04/usa-tribu-nativi-americani-approva-matrimonio-omosessuale/
UAAR Ultimissime

USA, tribù di nativi americani approva il matrimonio omosessuale

I suquamish, una tribù di nativi americani stanziata nello stato di Washington, hanno legalizzato il matrimonio omosessuale. Ne dà notizia l'agenzia France Presse: la decisione è stata presa dal consiglio della tribù, composto da sette membri, su richiesta di una giovane lesbica. "E' parte della nostra tradizione e della nostra cultura essere inclusivi, accettando persone che potrebbero essere differenti", ha dichiarato un loro esperto legale. I suquamish hanno una propria costituzione e possono deliberare autonomamente su diverse questioni: la decisione ha comunque valore soltanto all'interno della tribù.

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Open Window

Open Window
-----------

After days of heat
and sweat
and conversations with the Contessa

on when to air-condition-ate
ourselves

I wake up to a cicada
scratching the wind ...

from the wounds
comes dry-coolness
to the yawning light

so I fling open the windows
to let the music in

a commercial jet streaks the screen ...
the number "2" sloughs to a brief
ponderous exhilation at the semaphore
and bench below the window sill

the next shift of cicadas

slips out and into basswood leaves

one of them lug out a
saxaphone
jammin' a riff on oh, what beautiful morn

syncopation to the river
the clicks of jealous cardinals
and the quarrelling crows on
Franklin avenue

the "2" farts to a stop
... once more ...
the saxaphone cicada toots
through a chorus of
what a wonderful world

then climbs in
through hydraulic doors
and the wheels turn
on ... forward ...
with the light

diesal aromatics
spike the river breeze

a hint of midnight train
whispers
its prophesy
to the newly born
horizon

josjr (2011 0805)

A Tender Moment?

A Tender Moment?
-----------------------

Upon hearing of my mother's
ill health
and "hurt" because of my
long absense

I try to think of some moment to
meditate upon ...
some instance without accusation ...
disagreement ... condescenion ... sarcasm ...
!!!ANGER!!! ...

I flip through the rolodex of images ...
fleeting ... whispy ... dark ... confused ...
thorny ... encrusted ...

but I just can't get beyond those moments
of uncontained rage
that distill down

to a single moment in the arizona desert

my mother lashing at a sister
with a fury that stains walls
and exhails destruction

my adrenaline pulsed
driving me to enter my sister's room
and

try

to still the leather
in flight and flame

then the monster in a mother's skin
turns liquid steel and
twists its magma strips upon my face ...
my skin ... my belief in ... harmony? ...

there was no pain ... [at the moment] ...
the belt ... the buckle ... the flailing arms ...
inflicted what they could ...
but in slice of turbulence
I had entered a place

somewhere else

outside ... above ... to the side ...

but after ...

growing with the years ... the scars
blister and bite ...
they fester with each breath ...
and I can no longer
pass my hand across my cheeks
without the
numbing current of

irrelevance

josjr (2011 0803)

Ode to Sixty Years

Ode to 60 Years
---------------------

I woke up this morning
dark outside
sun long from arriving ...
two thirty ... a bit early ...

but the humidity sticks to my skin
like old moss
in an east Texas cellar

I take a pee
then look in the mirror
and there's this old man staring back at me

"welcome to the third act"
he says ...
sixty years
the third age
the final leg of a journey that started
on a dairy farm on the outskirts of Houston, Texas
and stumbled across ten states
fifty houses
two kids somewhere in the wind
two marriages
and more careers
than an alcholic ranch hand

the mythology of it all
fascinates me

but in the end
its just me and the contessa
"jalopy" bodies crumbling
preparing for the fires that consume us all

so I scoop the vanilla ice cream into
a frosted glass
and lift the root beer high

to salute ...

the stones we threw into
the Irish sea in St Davids, Wales
at the edge of the ancient stone circle where
we married ourselves ... first ...

to salute ...

the gypsies living in their trash house
beneath the tracks at the
Ponte Mammolo station in Rome
(sotto il binario della stazione metropolitana di
Ponte mammolo a Roma)

and sit down for a real conversation
with Pier Paolo Pasolini

to discuss the intricacies of the plot in his film
Mamma Roma

josjr (2011 0803)