She sends us a map
showing on which tribe’s land
we are now living.
This is not something
we have thought about,
not something we want
to think about, for that
would demand that we
are the usurpers, the horde
whose pogrom was
ultimately successful,
and that is a face that
refuse to see in the
polished mirror of history.
Dear Lou, I’ve been thinking a lot about this topic. You read my mind. The effigy mounds I’ve been writing about are the tip of the iceberg. All of Madison was Ho-Chunk land.
Great poem!
Mmm… it is said literature is the mirror of the society. And so it is here… acts of tribalism, hatred and animosity, geographical wrangles and dictatorship are penned in a single jot. Such a great write, aimed at instigating change through critique. Blessings.
an old writer and his words 
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