Diálogo

A White Earth childhood water rich and money poor.Vaporous being transformed in cycles—the alluvial stories pulled from Minnesota lakesharvested like white fish, like manoomin,like old prophecies of seed growing on water.Legends of Anishinaabeg spirit beings:cloud bearer Thunderbird who brings us rain,winter windigo like Ice Woman, or Mishibizhiiwho roars with spit and hiss of rapids—great underwater panther, you copper usto these tributaries of balance. Rills. A cosmologyof nibi. We believe our bodies thirst. Our earth.One element. Aniibiishaaboo. Tea brownwealth. Like maple sap. Amber. The liquid eye of    moon.Now she turns tide, and each wedded being gyratesto the sound, its river body curving.We, women of ageless waters, endure;like each flower drinks from night,holds dew. Our bodies a libretto,saturated, an aquifer—we speak wordsfrom ancient water.

Una infancia en White Earth rica en agua y pobre en    dinero.Ser vaporoso transformado en ciclos—las historias aluviales extraídas de los lagos de    Minnesotacosechadas como pescado blanco, como manoomin,como viejas profecías de semillas creciendo sobre el    agua.Leyendas de los seres espirituales Anishinaabeg:portador de nubes Pájaro Trueno que nos traes lluvia,windigo de invierno como Mujer Hielo, o Mishibizhiique ruge con silbidos y escupitajos de río caudalosogran pantera subacuática, tú nos cargas en cobre …a estos tributarios de equilibrio. Arroyos. Una    cosmologíade nibi. Creemos que nuestros cuerpos tienen sed.    Nuestra tierra.Un elemento Aniibiishaaboo. Riquezade té marrón. Como la savia del maple Ámbar. El ojo    líquido de la luna.Ahora ella voltea la marea, y cada ser unido girahacia el sonido, su cuerpo de río curvándose.Nosotras, mujeres de aguas sin edad, perduramos;como cada flor bebe de la noche,sostiene el rocío. Nuestros cuerpos un libreto,saturado, un acuífero—pronunciamos palabrasde agua antigua. [End Page 141]

Bornunder the canopy of plenty        the sweet unfolding        season's of a planet's youth,in the trance of capitalism we take our fillcontent with the status quopull our shades on encroaching collapsesay something about Anthropocene,the energy barter and the holy fortress of science.

But beyondthe throat of commerce,beneath the reflection    of the celestial river,within the ancient copper beauty of belongingwe stand encircled    inhabit the Ish,navigate by the singing of songs.

Though money fog settles around,confounds measuretoday veil of mystery  shiftslifts for momentary sigh t.    Herefind rhythm of a tattered planet,feel on panther mounda pulse.  Listen—don't count.Feel small life drum beneath———.

My core. I am ancient refracted lightor soundtraveling,my frequency a constantmy voicebending at anglesto become whole in another surface—say a poem.

Say a poemperpendicular to the boundaryof meaning,make it a prism or possibilitysing of turtle or cast the mythic lumenof thunderbird hereon the flat f alter of words:This page  not contractbut covenant.Neither image nor voicewill twin itselfIn the thick moist  cloudof beingeach limb a nimble test  of treeglimpse not see  nor calculate.

Still Shroud of Commerce shrouds meaning.In the technology of documentary genocidein the destructive bonanza of the industrial age—declare the death of planetas it passes  through a sound speed gradientcomes out  on the other sidea lost echo of human greedrepeating itselfrepeating itselfrepea t in g

Each splinter of languagebent  in complicated formulas of inferenceas fog forgets  then remembers  formand we measure  in metaphorvibration  earth timbrerefractive...