i wonder if it’s disrespectful

to be depressed

on someone else’s territory

cree cackles

are the melody

to halfbreed sadness

can this land

hold us


i keep writing

to create a different world

but i don’t know

if you can create worlds

using this language

that is punctuated

with its history

of forced syntax

how many more


are going to tell me

i’m so well spoken

growing up we learned

from kokum

to tell a dirty joke

and follow it with

 your saddest confession

i’m not so well spoken

on the phone

with my mom

when the northern crawls out

and i slip back into

the belonging

i tried not to belong to

when i went to university

because the rich white boy down the hall

made jokes that i grew up in a trailer park

not that there’s anything wrong with a trailer park

but i didn’t want to tell him that

even his white boy imaginations of poverty

were so far off

i laugh well

i laugh futures into existence

i laugh loud

and energetic

because this existence is funny

deeply ironic

and unexpected

in highschool social studies

we had to write a paper on if

louis was a sane or insane


looking at pictures of your kin

listening to your teacher

who smells like dust

and colonialism

tell you that louis was:

a murderer

a crazy murderer

a crazy treasonous murderer


i grew up with louis’s picture next to jesus’s

and i say that he was the leader of us

i get a C-

i didn’t know what a heretic is

the future is

aunties sitting

a kitchen table


and drinking tea

and swearing

because we survived

and got to make a joke of it.



2 Comments Add yours

  1. rednig says:

    Peace. Remember the joy of the sun. After the chaos, all is pure. Walk in beauty.

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