the sequence of events is unclear
still somewhere between the taste
of limes and shit I almost understood
history—in the dream
. I am chasing manidoo-waabooz
. he runs across turtle island
IT’S EARASING ME
. when I reach b/c he burrows
. in the ground until the land
. becomes fabric
. far as the horizon
. I start shaking
. my back hurts
. my head hurts
. my stomach—
I wake up sucking my thumb tasting
the latest pretty-boy Trudeau speech
the sequences still unclear
which came first—the suicide
pact or OKA—have we always been
in this patch work
do our feet even know
where to stand anymore
Copyright © Ashley Hynd. Originally published in subTerrain (#80: Margins).
Ashley Hynd lives on the Haldimand Tract and respects the Attawandron, Anishnawbe, and Haudenosaunee relationships with the land. Her writing often grapples with the erasure of her history, both as an act of reclamation and a call of accountability for what has been lost. She was longlisted for The CBC Poetry Prize (2018), shortlisted for ARC Poem of the Year (2018), and won the Pacific Spirit Poetry Prize (2017). Her poetry has appeared in ARC Poetry, Canthius, Room, Prism International, subTerrain & Grain. Her hobbies Include trampling the patriarchy, avoiding doing the dishes and getting lost in conversations.
subTerrain is published 3 times a year from modest offices just off of Main Street in Vancouver, BC. We strive to produce a stimulating fusion of fiction, poetry, photography and graphic illustration from uprising Canadian, U.S. & International writers and artists.
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