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when you were five
when you were kidnapped from your family and imprisoned in
Kamloops
when I was two
when the Nazis
when Babi Yar
when I was five months
when the infamous Mush Hole mass execution of children of Brantford Mohawk Indian Residential School
run by the Church and Crown of England
when they lined up the children next to a big ditch and shot them
so they fell into the ditch
when some of the kids were still alive
when they shoveled the dirt on top of them. Buried them alive on land occupied by the Canadian Army
at its Basic Training Camp Number 20
when on this earth when in time
we are breathing
the same air they are breathing, the killers when their victims
when Time
as me, you
as them, inside us we breathe
all things
connected as above so below
when we were children, prisoners
of the Church’s concentration camp
inspired by the Nazis
who were inspired by the American Holocaust
when the 19 million Indigenous Americans disappeared when Hitler found his model
in Andrew Jackson
who sent the Cherokee on the Trail of Tears
against Congress’s vote
when Hitler wrote
“I model my Solution
on the American Solution
of its Natives”
“How native American
the line
to the shower, now
there’s an archetypical image…”
when the wives
hid you in their pantries, under their beds
when their husbands on orders of California’s governor were hunting you down to kill
when your parents, kidnapped, impoverished prisoners in Kamloops surviving on mush
when they heard 36
when “infamous,” when they stood us
Jews and Indians, Africans, Muslims, Chinese, when et al this archetypical image
when I was a white girl
burned at the stake
when my father
when the spirit breaks when the tar of despair
the quicksand of the buried bodies the sorrow
the soul
denied
when all you have is your secret sex when finally alone
the only sacred place
all that you have, your self
when the self triumphs
and this is God
—
from The Visit by Sharon Doubiago, published by Wild Ocean Press, copyright 2015 Sharon Doubiago.
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Sharon Doubiago is truly America’s poet laureate, our Pulitzer Prize poet, our finest voice in American poetry. I pray she receives the fame and fortune she so truly deserves. I hold it as Truth, I visualize it. She truly embodies the Spirit of America.
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I hardly know what to say except thank you from the bottom of my heart. It’s not so much “fame and fortune” that one wants, but readers who get it. Merci, gracias, you are one such reader.
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Reblogged this on Mindfire Cantata.
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