In photographs the light fl ashes
Off his big cheekbones
Which are as defi nite as fi sts
While his eyes fl ash
With their diff erent light, looking out
At the quick, hard
Movements of his own world.
He is not a suff erer.
Sure of himself, for the reason
That he has thought out
And made for himself -- made by hand
You could say -- a weapon of a self,
A self for hard use. He named
Himself -- Nicaagat,
Who appeared from out of the desert westward
One spring, and joined the Utes.
Some say he had White blood, some
That he was part Mexican
Or Paiute or Apache. Sold as a boy
By the Ute chief Walkara
(The one who castrated the boys he sold
To Navajos for placid herdsmen)
To a Mormon family. They raise him -- take him
To church, send him to school.
Get him a job: six months
Driving an ice wagon
In Salt Lake City and he vanishes