Kokopelli

Like swarming locusts, we devour the earth,
Pollution covers mountains of human birth,
New customs stole great histories away,
Nothing learned from the Hopi ways,
And the seeds on Kokopelli’s back,
Have been exchanged for wads of cash,
Now we all have Kokopelli to buy,
But the rains have stopped and the soil's dry

From proud cultures the greedy loot,
Dust storms rise from the hunchback’s flute,
The value held in this sacred land,
Is worth more than the money crumpled in your hands,
Their water is stolen and Hopi can’t grow corn,
It is as if a people had never been born,
You who don’t have to face these droughts,
Will spend all you have until nothing sprouts

Can’t till the soils from which you once fed,
When you’re drilling for oil and mining for lead,
And with Kokopelli stuck on your store shelves,
He becomes only a shell of his former self,
Manufactured in China through American eyes,
The sun is setting over the life-giving sky,
A tourist icon has been trapped on display,
Watching the world around him wither away