Baruk Feddabonn New Zealand
from: Angipanis of the Abanimal People - Andy Leleisi'auo
Baruk works with words, pictures, bones, feathers, maps, wood and broken liquor bottles. Originally from Shillong in the north east of India, he now lives in Hamilton, Aotearoa New Zealand, and uses http://bottlebroke.blogspot.com as a creative dumping ground.
the promised land torn away from our vision of the happy hunting grounds, we are condemned to an english heaven. so torn away, in fact that the only term i know to explain it is borrowed- a bland american rendition of another tribe's afterlife. hiawatha's other song i saw a colour today. brown it was; like the skin between your fingers soft with funny wrinkles when stretched. or a tree before april autumn tv taunted us with news of summers far away. i saw a colour today. white it was; like the skin between your fingers soft with funny wrinkles when stretched. but the trees aren't white yet. will they, too, soon be? clear, cool, pool clear cool pool. with water that tastes of musty roots and bits of leaf and mossy rock clear cool pool. with water that smells of cold fresh dawns and tepid noons and dusty dusk clear cool pool. and in a corner by the log half dragged onto a sandy bank he sprawls. shot through the head. rebel. informer. brother. friend. clear cool pool. leave us our hills goddamn you chinky rebel fools (who water these hills with our blood) goddamn you indian army goons (who water these hills with our blood) leave us alone, you bastards, leave. to eat and sing and dance and sleep a quiet meal a happy song a drunken dance and sleep. deep. without constant, constant, constant memories of your goddamn guns. and bloody countries. leave us our hills. leave. all you bastards, leave.