Waiting for Wovoka by Gerald Vizenor

Author:Gerald Vizenor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wesleyan University Press
Published: 2022-10-16T00:00:00+00:00

No change, no pause, no hope! Yet, I endure.

I ask the Earth, have not the mountains felt?

I ask the Heaven, the all-beholding sun,

Has it not seen? The Sea, in storm or calm,

Heaven’s ever-changing shadow, spread below,

Have its deaf waves not heard my agony?

Ah me! Alas, pain, pain ever, forever!

Dummy served native corn soup, warm beer, and blueberry mush on crackers to celebrate the poetry and puppet parleys of the native troupe and stowaways that night at the Theatre of Chance. By Now raised each of the hand puppets and mocked the deceptive promises of an elite democracy, “show me the course of liberty not separatism,” and “hand puppets, panic holes, and corn soup are the stays of heart stories and native liberty.” Prometheus raised his hands to the open joists of the cabin and simulated a slow swing to the table of food.

Poesy May created two new phrases of the poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley, “have the federal agents not heard the agony, the native pain, the eternal misery of separation on reservations.”

Big Rant selected the second to the last letter written from Paris by Basile Beaulieu, Wednesday, October 25, 1944, and read out loud late that night creative versions of the first two original paragraphs from the yellowy newspaper print.

“The heirs of the fur trade endure with shame and remorse of the colonial wars over beaver, marten, and mink. New France voyageurs and native perpetrators of peltry are romanced in literature, and natives have waited centuries to hear the legion of honors for the sacrifice of totemic animals, or at least to witness the sway of human and animal rights, but peace and liberty are only sentiments declared in constitutional democracies.

“New France secured a union of natives in the great cause and commerce of peltry, and missions of peace and continental liberty, but no colonial treaty could ever restore the natural motion of totemic associations with animals and birds that natives and our relations culled and ravaged in the centuries of the fur trade.”

The Theatre of Chance mongrels, Trophy Bay, Hail Mary, George Eliot, Daniel, and Dingleberry, and the two post office mongrels, Tallulah and Big John, became a chorus of sighs, bays, marvelous moans, and mellow barks to celebrate the poetry and puppet parleys and to honor the memory of distant relations and the totemic animals that were massacred in the fur trade.

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