Pressured Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Pressured

Indian Princess
Was not just a poet,
Also, writer, actor.

Am reading her poem
On, about Chief Eagle
Stealing some cattle.

The poem leads me to
The "Garlic Allegory! "

It bubbles if put in vinegar
Like water in kettle on fire.

I think of the poet
Born to a white mother,
And Mohawk, her father.

In prose: "My Mother, "
It is well clear,
She saw no difference
Between the two parents.

Found it hard to answer:
"Mohawk or Britain? "

In times chose the latter
But the Whites rejected:
"Filthy is your blood,
Since it is diluted."

Surprised was Pauline,
She became "Princess, "
To the side of father.

With her years behind us,
She, buried in some park
Pen vultures, academia,
As always, are in fight:
"Is she or is she not
A Canon among us? "