Verso, 2022
daydreaming w/ Bob Arnold
Kent Monkman, “Les Castors Du Roi,” 2011. Collection of the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. Image via the artist. Here, Monkman, a Cree artist in Dish With One Spoon Territory (Toronto), depicts a fanciful hunting scene in New France, as it might have been painted in the time of Louis XV, who was known for his love of hunting. “The violence perpetrated against the beaver,” Monkman writes of this painting, “can be interpreted in various ways, considering the violence present in New France between French, English and the First Peoples. More than a beaver hunt, this scene alludes to the complex political, social and cultural histories of Turtle Island.”
The Interior
A winter night in desert light:
trucks carving out air-corridors
of headlights on the interstate
at intervals only a vigil
could keep. Constellations
so clean you can see
the possibilities denied.
Now, from the beginning
tell me everything.
Stars, Days, Words
We call days what nights leave behind.
My daughter points out the stars to me
(she is sitting on her father's shoulders)
as if I had not seen them before she came
and might have missed them except for her eyes.
You don't need to go far to see the world.
She has words and a sentence or two.
You tell me what's going fast as this.
Family
All I knew was that I would not let them die
alone, the images, the image of the father
with his daughter pulled into his shirt, her head
tucked into his armpit like a lamb
in a description of a shepherd in a novel
by Thomas Hardy, arms around each other
so they would not be separated
if they drowned, but then they drowned.
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Katie Peterson
Fog and Smoke
FSG, 2024
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521, 2nd Main, 3rd Block, RMV Extension 2nd Stage, Bangalore 560 094
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A N D T H E N E X T D A Y !
We dream of foreign countries, of other times and races of man, placing
them at a distance in history or space; but let some significant event like
the present occur in our midst; and we discover, often, this distance and
this strangeness between us and our nearest neighbors. They are our
Austrias, and Chinas, and South Sea Islands. Our crowded society be-
comes well spaced all at once, clean and handsome to the eye, — a city
of magnificent distances. We discover why it was that we never got beyond
compliments and surfaces with them before; we became aware of as many
versts between us and them as there are between a hermit in the thor-
oughfares of the marketplace. Impassable sea suddenly find their level
between us, or dumb steppes stretch themselves out there. It is the differ-
ence of constitution, of intelligence, and faith, and not streams and
mountains, that make the true and impassable boundaries between in-
dividuals and between states.
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H E N RY D A V I D T H O R E A U
from — "A Plea for Captain John Brown"