Inanimate Things

from Saskadumy | ЦАЦКАДУМА by Kitz Willman

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lyrics

“In Ukrainian communities, the homes,
farm buildings and churches are now modern, well-built structures.”

A young coyote yelped herself awake from a dream
but it wasn’t a coyote because they never dream
nor do they ever sleep.
It was some opîtatowew planting a sod house somewhere on Treaty 4
in a town that pleaded to know.
The eldest held the geolocational question
scribbled on a cigarette card.
Knuckle bones scarred.
Cutting grass into shards for a house.
Bruises on the back of both of my hands.
Marching bands from Ukraine to Indigenous lands.
From Ukraine to Indigenous lands.

Well, when they arrived the wind stopped their wondering.
And while they had hoped to enjoy their bread and salt in peace
instead they fed hordes of mosquitos with their bodies.
The sod house and the stable,
an obstruction viable through no legal purchase nor lease.
Entered quarrels with mounted police…

“I’ll teach you how to eat raw horse meat.
I have pins and needles,
flints and pipes.
Trust my wares…”

Like the coyote who howls at night.
Oh, like the coyote who howls at night.

Fending off misfortune
and drinking liquor from the still.
A storm cloud hovered the valley
and rain drops melt in the hills.

They counted the kills,
counted the crops,
counted the neighbours,
then hid in the willows til later.
Til a stream of smoke billowed from a freighter.
Driving a grader,
riding a stallion
and rallying.
Fight or fail!
Dodging hail,
hating jail
and collapsing while the Kobzar wails.

While the Kobzar wails,
“You tethered to me to a cannon,
(a canon)
and gave me nothing to drink,
(nothing)
no audience to abandon,
(no audience)
sing for inanimate things,
(sing!)

“Ran rivers with blood,
(blood)
broke knives with thieves,
(broke knives and teeth)
no audience to come after,
(no audience)
sing for inanimate things!
Sing it!”