The Goatman

You don't know the goatman? Are you so blind to your people, so deaf to their stories? Young folks like you, you are the last sigh of our nation's spirit; you are the death rattle as Columbus finishes his work. So many years ago the white men came, they came with fire and hatred, and they burned us in our beds- but if we let our stories die out, if the goatman goes to his grave, then truly we have lost our path.

Please, my child, allow me to resuscitate, allow me to keep the old horse limping for a couple more miles.

I was a boy when I first saw the goatman with my own eyes.