Here is a link to the Ode’min Giizis Literary Submissions:
And below is the full-text version:
Five-Petal Flowers Up-Side-Down Hearts
We spend all day in the Museum Archives’ First Nations Collection
beautiful old things stored in drawers. Beadwork! Drums!
painted Car Hoods! Guns! –Antique Road-show heaven!–
Excited history-geek mixed feelings.
How did they acquire these things?
Righteous thoughts of repatriating First Nation’s treasures.
White-gloved archive-geek heaven.
We navigate around the city in relation to the location of the Archives,
then step out onto the street: The AFN conference is in town,
they’re selecting the new National Head Chief.
Lots of Indians in this city.
There’s a Powwow downtown,
people dancing on concrete. Beads & feathers, drums & leather.
The same Beaded Floral Patterns that were lying in drawers,
five-petal flowers and upside-down hearts
shining in the fresh air sun smell of wood smoke
The Black Robe’s Prayer
Black robe praying
beside the river of metal death
“Please, gtchi aandeg
I wait, upon your benevolence
I live, only at your pleasure
path of paths
road of roads
deliver to me
my next meal “
“Does your mom make spicy food often?”
She asks me, casually, as we are passing Curry Palace.
“Spicy food?” I ask. Trying to figure out why she is asking me.
–She just met my mom yesterday–
“Yeah, I guess. Sometimes.”
What a weird question, I think.
Before it dawns on me, she thinks I’m an INDIAN.
Feather. Not a dot.
A crow sat pecking at something dead
at the side of the road, rending/tearing
at rubbery-grey flesh, a strip of shapeless meat dangling
from it’s beak for a
before it was gobbled
head tilted back
to swallow it whole