moonlight
i bring you stitches
a feather
three books
the caribou
sit
measuring emptiness
the fish
study
the methodology of giving up
the molecules
calculate
the accumulated effects of hate
you break
down
to a less ordered state
the ice
breathes
and gives in
the lake
runs
out of options
july 15
30 cubic metres
five storeys
just like
the Gwich’in
always said
there are all kinds
of ways
to fail.
head of the lake
in a basement full of plastic flowers
perogies and
cabbage rolls
at the head of the lake
thinking under accusation
at the mouth of the catastrophic river
disappearing our kids
at the foot of the nest
beside trailer hitches, coffee, spoons
we made a circle
and it helped
the smoke did the things
we couldn’t
singing
broke open hearts
i hold your hand
without touching it.
we’re in the thinking part of the lake
faith under accusation
at the mouth of the river
and the spectre of free
at the foot of Animikig
beside bones of stone and red silver
in a basement full of increasing entropy
moose ribs, wild rice.
in realization
we don’t exist without each other
she says: there’s nothing about you
i’m not willing to know.
death by water
boil your water
for twenty years
to remove
two parts road salt
one cup exhaust
two tablespoons of arsenic
biiwaanag
flint
tool
weapon
river
put the sign
in the forest so the
eagles see
put the sign
in the benthos
so the fish have
something to read
biiwaanag
flint
Black
Red
ignition
i’m sitting facing the wind
drinking in blue
her body around mine
lips tasting air
i love her anyway
i love her more. because.
biiwaanag
flint
spark
light
fire
weather
broken weather
irrevocable rain
injured creeks
and flood
basements ruined
internets caught on fire
burning from nothing to nothing
in green toxic blue flame
we sat on the log
again
in the absence of light
we picked ten dollar bills
our of each other’s marrow
in the absence of rupture
we took turns
falling up into dreams
diving deeper and deeper
in the deficit of oxygen
through
insult and callout
through
ego and ego
swimming
drowning
sinking
i reach out
for my pawful of dirt
and instead
you hold my hand.
surface tension
there are beating wings
there are
simple
stolen
moments
the road only goes one way
and you can’t get lost
the trees drive by
and we carry the river
i ask you four questions
you give me four answers:
the ininiwish that lived here
the book that saved your life
the akiwenzii that assigned you
the oil rig that only sang marx
we keep the critic in the back seat
i keep the answers in the hollow part of me
the river only goes one way
and you can’t get lost
there are simple stolen moments
these are simple stolen moments
we love
when we are able
and there are beating wings reminding me
if you fly forever you can have two summers.
the wake
hello my friend
i’ve come
to see you again
everything we tried
to grow
this year has died
you’re tripped inside my head
numb calm, dulled light
cold red
acorns and fallen stars
a child
that wasn’t ours
ashes in my eyes
crushed fires
and shattered skies
wearing just the lake
diminished
in the wake
inside a commune of night
there’s no way
to make this right
injured and certified
i wish i’d held you
when you died
you’re tripped inside my head
numb calm, dulled light
cold red
everything we
tried to grow
this year has died.
cohesion
she fell into the lake
with a bag of tools
she patched the canoe with her shirt
and drove her kids across the river
she put ɂorı out
in the middle of lake
we soaked the hide
in ziibiins overnight
he carried his kid
even when they got lost
her water broke
and the door opened
they found her body
wrapped in a duvet
weighed down
with rocks
giigoonh picked her precious
out of their gills
held her forever
in their otoliths
aandeg watched
his last
breath
took his sound
embedded it in our heat
read his notes
and beaded them onto our hearts
promised his mama
we’d make it matter
we are all hunters
and we all knew
when white
strangles the trigger
we die twice.
viscosity
calling out
calling in
you’re not fooling me
tethered to the kinship
of disassociated
ze
ros and ones
shining your crown
of neoliberal
likes
yelling the loudest
in the
empty room
gathering
followers
like berries
feeding
fish
to insecurity
sliding
into
reckless moment
after reckless moment
we witness:
too many holes in your hide
the broken skin of a canoe
the tightening of a mind
tracks, leading nowhere.
at the
beach
we build a fire
sit in our
own
silence
peel off
blue
light
lie back
on
frozen
waves
breathe
in
sharp air
warm
into
each other
careful moment
after careful moment.
break up
i step over
the watery edges
he pulls the canoe
across the ice
she paddles to the edge to collect candles
for her old ones to melt and then drink
you shoot ducks
while it’s still easy.
they gather at the edge
thinking
they gather in the sky
rethinking
they swim towards light
thinking otherwise
sun hits you from above
you melt from inside out
faint ice as membrane
spreads sound across skin
aabawe the first warmth of spring
aabawe a loosening of the mind
aabawe to forgive
gathering into gatherings
they are watching in the front row
of the empty theatre
smiling through tears, remembering
going over and over in their minds
they are this beautiful tendency to stick together.
a single nuclei of desert dust
falling 3.5 feet per second
falling 3.5 feet per second, but together
enfolding, one crystal at a time
they are this beautiful tendency to stick together.
forming a nation of stunning difference
propagating arms of crystal
offering the full spectrum of possibility
reflecting the full spectrum of light
they are this beautiful tendency to stick together.
zoogipo
it is snowing
zoogipo
aanakwad is giving birth
zoogipo
a choir is falling from the sky
zoogipo
building their bodies from time, temperature, circumstance
they are this beautiful tendency to stick together.
there are six points
holding 10 quintillion molecules of water
mobilizing joy
amassing on aki
we are this beautiful tendency to stick together.
gashkadin :: freeze up
we gather
in the winter lodge
formed from earth
and ice
we slow
pray
sing
dream
earth below
world above
wait things out
but together.
my upper parts
are exiled to the bottom
my lower parts
deported to the surface
there is euphotic rising
and falling
orbits of dispossession,
reattachment
achieving
maximum density:
39 degrees fahrenheit,
lake as one mind.
i relax
at the surface
spread apart
cooler holding warmer
regular
repeated
ordered
locked
nurtured from the bottom up
leaving just enough
space
for this
incubated
life.
NINE
FORMATION
Mandaminaakoog
Mandaminaakoog isn’t in the best of shape. They aren’t the best mathematician, or reader of the weather, and they aren’t the best at details. They are, however, one of the most important individuals in formation, and while other societies might minimize the kind of work Mandaminaakoog does naturally, this one does not.
Mandaminaakoog
In the mornings, when navigation meets to refine the day’s route and finalize logistics, Mandaminaakoog is quietly present. They watch the decision-making, the personalities, the egos. They take measure of who is able to see outside of themselves and make decisions easily and who struggles. They inventory mental and physical strain, and how the group manages, or doesn’t manage. They answer questions when they are asked. They offer opinions when they are considered. They intervene only when the well-being of the formation is at risk, allowing the flock to fail and learn and recover and self-determine. They are wise, and their wisdom is of the kind that lived experience generates. A confidence that no matter what happens over the course of the day, they can handle it. They will always be okay. And of course when that isn’t true, because it isn’t true in life of any sort, there is an unwavering belief that they will handle it anyway.
Mandaminaakoog
They see the formation as formation. As a singular organism propelling itself to someplace else whose magnificence is bigger than the sum of its parts. Mandaminaakoog’s responsibility is to observe the function of the system as a whole, to take note of inconsistencies and weaknesses. To watch how the system generates and uses energy, copes with and minimizes drag and friction and responds to the constantly changing variables of wind, temperature, moisture and light.
Sure the formation is made up of individuals and individuals are formations in and of themselves. But that is the trick. To not get caught up in one’s own body, one’s own experience, one’s own cycling head. Synergy matters, because it represents the incomprehensible. The other forces and nations working with you even if you’re unaware.
The wonder.
Mandaminaakoog
Mandaminaakoog has status, but status is never something that matters. What matters is commitment, desire, skill — and how those feed back on each other to create what appears from the outside to be an effortless elegance. What matters is showing up.
There will always be times in the journey where the unspoken and the interstitial spiral farther and farther down.
Times when the formation relies upon those good-natured ones that are never fooled by misfortunes, deterred by missteps or overwhelmed by the constant influx of changing variables. The ones that can change the feel of something instantaneously with a quick laugh. The ones who are almost always certain, and who remain calm even when they are uncertain. Confidence swimming in humility.
Humility, not as pity or a pathos. But as a lived realization that all of us, any of us, are just part of something more complex than we realize. That it is always less about the me.
What also matters is the nature of the individual, and this is directly correlated to skill level. Difficult individuals are tolerated if they hav
e exceptional mastery of flight, but just as important as mastery is the ability to hold the group together; that makes the entire thing enjoyable. Most appreciated are the ones that can shift energy with a quick laugh or a diffuse response, those that pay attention to how bodies are feeling and then act accordingly. These individuals are just as crucial as those that can navigate, those that understand formation, logistics and engineering. The psychological management of individuals in formation, and of the formation itself, impacts all the other parameters of flight and migration in ways that few can predict.
Mandaminaakoog
Same with the network. Connecting the seat of each individual’s character to the sequence is a constant job. Mandaminaakoog smudges everyone off at dawn and the flow will be strong, continually folding in. But by mid-morning three-quarters of the flock drops out of frequency without an inkling of notice, and they have virtually no skills to reconnect. This makes everyone’s job more difficult. It’s like flying in radio silence, out of range of support. Open channels inevitably fill with anxiety, and broken connections make the journey more of a cascading crisis than anything else. It is one thing after another, the group barely able to recover from the last crisis before the next one is upon them.
Mandaminaakoog needs to work with each individual on their own to teach them how to focus in and block out distraction, static and noise. They do this in the down times when the group isn’t travelling, but it is a long road. It is a skill that requires enormous amounts of quiet practice, because the brain is literally rewriting and regrowing the synaptic pathways to make the focus happen — which is an elegant feat in and of itself. It makes it hard, though, for practitioners to believe, because it never seems like one is getting better at it. One always feels like a failure. Mandaminaakoog is also teaching how to sit with perpetual failing, or at least the perception that one is in perpetual failure.
Status is another imposition on an already difficult situation. In order to get border clearance, the state requires each migrating bird to have a certificate of status. The rules have changed over the years, and have become less stringent, but they have nothing to do with geese. They have nothing to do with anything other than the state’s desire to regulate migrants out of existence, because controlling resident populations is much easier to manage if everyone just lives in the park all year around.
To obtain your migrant card, initially you need two parents that are migrants. In concert with the dispossession of airspace, breeding grounds, nesting grounds and places to live and be, and along with avian diseases and the near-destruction of the geese’s world, this has proved to be devastating to the migrants. They also wholeheartedly reject carding and take whoever is best suited for the migration, doctoring cards and documents as needed.
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