by Shantell Powell
(Content Warnings: mention of COVID-19 pandemic)
We are in the time of two moons, when Sister Sun’s brother
Seeks us out in lieu of his sister.
The radiance of the dark dances electric green across the sky.
I can still hear peals of laughter reverberating off mountain tops.
Sister Sun doesn’t see us, but we remember her
In the face of her brother:
Marred with soot, glowing with shame, always hunting.
I search for more ways to wake the sky.
I whistle and dance, and the dogs cavort,
Leap through the air, feet squeaking.
In a styrofoam winter, we build blocks of past and future,
Perfect for placing in circles
Growing taller, growing narrower, until they provide shelter,
Though no one lives in igluit anymore.
I know those who were born on the land.
We straddle the times of fish frozen runners for dog sleds,
Of brave ones creeping on their bellies across the ice,
Hopping like the seals they hunt upon toes and knuckles,
Then clubbing them on the back of the head.
We straddle that time with ellen degeneres
Calling us savages on international television
For not eating food force-grown on factory farms
Sent on technology-melting permafrost and precious ice.
It’s food we can’t afford,
I straddle the time of seal flipper pies and big macs,
Snare lines and costco,
Qajat and kayaks,
Chamberpots and facebook,
Tuberculosis and covid,
Boil orders and the tastiest spring water in the history of forever.
I straddle multiple realities
And I ride them in slipstream.
Some say winter is stillness,
But winter is when I
Exhale frost clouds through white-haired nostrils,
Chase children down sliding hills,
Gaze into the sky for that two-time Moon
And the absence of Sister Sun.
She must be happiest when she hovers over Antarctica,
Shining on penguins while he glowers over polar bears.
Only coca-cola ads bring together cunning bear and waddling bird,
Equally suited to their environments
but not to one another.
The dark holds its own music in the north.
Our breath rises up from the earth to light up the stars.
Sila is songs sung between women, sharing breath,
Sharing voice, sharing laughter.
Babies rest within amautik,
Laughing at these sounds in the night.
SHANTELL POWELL is a 2-spirit Inuk living on the Haldimand Tract in socalled Kitchener, Ontario. Her childhood was spent living on the land all over British Columbia and the Atlantic provinces. She is a storyteller, activist, contributors 104 throat singer, and multidisciplinary artist. You can find more of her work on Instagram: @shanmonster.
in slipstream can be found in Augur Magazine Issue 4.1.
