From the Other Side of the Lake


 

 

Right on top of Lyman Lakie,

Under shadows of the pine tree

Lies the dorm of mighty Goodhue,

Home of jocks and pimped freshman,

Home of the Mell and all his angels,

Home of keggers, sweaty bodies,

Beach boy tunes and drunken flamers.

 

To this bastion of young manhood,

Rugged tower of chauvinism,

Come one day in midwinter,

Seventeen young female squaw-types,

Brought their clothes and books and posters,

Records, bedspreads, blankets, pillows,

Moving into first floor Goodhue

With their sex to make it co-ed.

 

Signs there were on the doors there

Saying “Welcome, squaws, to Goodhue”

And the bathrooms were bedecked with

Blue and pink and purple flowers,

Scatter rugs and pretty pictures

Warriors all lent squaws their muscles

Moving heavy trunks and boxes,

 

Up in morning not with sunrise,

But with singing from the shower,

Loud male voices from the shower,

Loud phone ringing from the hallway

Hollering for warrior wanted

(He lives way far down the hallway

Answerer too tired to fetch him,

He was up till wee small hours

Talking outside some squaws’ doorway.)

 

Stumble down the hall to breakfast.

Never use those plastic curlers,

Never wear the robe all quilty,

Never put on warpaint no-how,

Put on smile instead, for warriors.

Warriors too tired to see it,

Most are buried in their papers,

Snoring in their cups of coffee,

Stinky, icky Goodhue coffee,

Making all the warriors wish that

They had not got out of bed yet.

 

 

Up the hill in cold and windy

Weather, up the hill to classes,

All the cold and freezing squaw-types

Wish for tunnel straight to Olin

“Ah well” sigh the freezing squaw-types,

“Anything for co-ed housing”

Now instead of having tunnels,

They must face the windy weather.

When spring comes it will be better

No so cold and wet and muddy.

 

There are irksome things in Goodhue

Squaws find little closet space,

Warriors play loud music always,

Water fights and conversation

Late at night to stop one sleeping

Vi in kitchen, horrid coffee,

Long cold way to talk in darkness

No bathtubs save proctor Jimmy’s

No hair dryer there in Goodhue.

 

It is strange to see the warriors

Walk the halls in towel & u-trow,

Wet of hair and dripping body

Footprints wet on rug in hallway.

Squaws seem not afraid of warriors.

Wander in the halls in jockshirts

Popping in to say hello to

Warriors booking late at night there,

 

People talk to one another-

Ohmygod, Communication

It is good to see the warriors

Have them living close at hand there,

Reservation social problem

Not all solved by co-ed dormie,

But at least on first-floor Goodhue

Things are happening with people

Making better lives for warriors,

Squaws and all on Reservation.

 

 

                                    Gerre Goodman