April is NaPoWriMo (niizh giizhigad)

by waaseyaa'sin christine sy

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all the poets have left the buildling for niibaa including me not including me here tapping out something at the end of a breathless road of a day adrenaline high still leaving my body not my eyelids falling falling falling sandpaper finegrain over bloodshot glassy orbs seeing doubleblurry so ndaanis’ assignment reads war on vets not should canada be spending money on war and this just in: man with soft, uplifted voice singing something about ‘never’ with a rhythm and beat passing by this momentary window of my life at night laying alongside a busy unfamiliar street cozy with bear beside me and southern wind birds snuggled away too waiting for mom waiting for mom waiting for mom to come home and time away from each other is good as kahlil gibran says even time away from each other as parents and children so sleep well sweet dreams silly writing games

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APRIL IS NaPoWriMo (bezhik giizhigad)

 

april fools & nanabush battle over napowrimo

it’s raining

it’s pourin—

 

naaa     po   wri   moooooo-ing

 

say what?

 

napowrimo-ing

a verb

you know

nanabush’s poetry writing moon

my month. first time in like

everrrrr. napowrimo-ing.

an action. like all anishinaabe life

moving, constantly, maddening

 

it’s spring. go home.

 

it’s not. i won’t.

 

it is

 

it’s not

there’s snow on the ground.

it’s raining

it’s snowing

na     po   wri   mooo-ing

believe me?

 

believe what?

 

me

 

believe you me, no

 

come on. please?

 

no. it’s april fools,

my day, child

and

it’s national poetry

writing month.

it’s raining

it’s pouring

na   ro   po wri   moooo-ing

 

pppsshh. takes my idea.

that all you got?

 

weellll, i got winning

649 and a preggo eggo.

i got a money baby.

it’s yours.

now we can get

the hell outta dodge,

leave these suckas

to figure things out.

coming?

 

uh, aanii! yea!

 

cha. AS IF, son.

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