Witness, I Am

Gregory Scofield

• Publisher: Nightwood Editions
• Year: 2016
• Print ISBN: 9780889713239
• eBook ISBN: 9780889711181
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Canadian Poetry
• Index: Literature

Witness, I Am is divided into three gripping sections of new poetry from one of Canada’s most recognized poets. The first part of the book, “Dangerous Sound,” contains contemporary themed poems about identity and belonging, undone and rendered into modern sound poetry. “Muskrat Woman,” the middle part of the book, is a breathtaking epic poem that considers the issue of missing and murdered indigenous women through the reimagining and retelling of a sacred Cree creation story. The final section of the book, “Ghost Dance,” raids the autobiographical so often found in Scofield’s poetry, weaving the personal and universal into a tapestry of sharp poetic luminosity. From “Killer,” Scofield eerily slices the dreadful in with the exquisite: “I could, this day of proficient blooms, / take your fingers, / tie them down one by one. This one for the runaway, / this one for the joker, / this one for the sass-talker, / this one for the judge, / this one for the jury. / Oh, I could kill you.”

Muskrat Woman

for nimâmâsis, Georgina

Muskrat Woman

This poem is a retelling, a reimagining of a much longer âtayôhkêwina—Cree Sacred Story. In my teachings, one is not supposed to say kistêsinâw’s (elder brother’s) other name, “wîsahkêcâhk,” during the summer months. It is considered inappropriate to use his name when there is no snow on the ground.

I

miyaskâm kinwês After a long time

He says, Get me a piece

Of the old earth.

She says, Fuck you!

Get your own dirt.

He says, awâs! Get me

Some of the old earth. Go away

Fuck you! She says.

Get your own dirt.

He says, Get me a piece

Of the old earth

Or I’ll smash you.

She says, hâw, acimo!

Tell the story.

But in the garden

With the blooming tree

She thinks to herself,

I have no right

To be melancholy.

My life is exquisite.

Now her eyes

Are two black beads,

The kind of bad luck

On her rosary.

hâw, acimo! she says. Tell the story

Not before the old earth, he says.

Then her paws slip

Into the consonants

Of her old name,

The sound of mud.

It was true.

She was a dreary old cynic.

But she had those rights.

She left good cheer the day

The Black Robe stunk

On top of her. In his hunger

He called out the other names,

The ones like Ramona,

Alberta, Delphine, Roxanne

And Lana. Those names

He left on a highway.

But mostly with her

He cried, Oblige me.

The wafer of his tongue

Was his weapon and so, too,

Were his hymns and prayers.

He made her believe

In the implication of loneliness.

The bricks of that place

Eventually made her eyes go dim.

It made her hate the old earth.

So she had rights.

A short time after

His careful thinking,

He says, Get me a piece

Of the old earth.

Fuck you, she says.

Get your own dirt.

His hand was quick,

So much so her mouth

Exploded like a parasol,

The bones of her face

Stretching tight, tight her skin.

He says, Get me some

Of the old earth. sîmak! Right away

Fuck you, she says.

Get your own dirt.

His hand was quick.

This time her two front teeth,

The cutting ones went loose

Like snare wire, the den

Of her mouth empty.

Tell the story, she says.

Fuck you, he says.

Tell your own story.

kisêyiniw said it was Old Man

Her own damn fault.

He grumbled about

Her being a dumb bitch

And gave everyone

The burden of suffering.

Some say that is what

Made her hitchhike

On the highway.

But her borrowed rib

Just rotted away,

All worm-kissed

Like the fruit she gave him,

The one who cried

And promised to tell

The story. He even sang

His grandfather’s song,

The lullaby for Water Beings.

The highway was her last resort.

She simply wanted air.

But in the bush that night,

Clinging to her breath,

She dreamt she dove into

The water, an endless silk ribbon

Taking her down and down

To where she could see everything.

It was so clea...

Table of contents

• Muskrat Woman
• Ghost Dance
• Dangerous Sound
• Notes & Acknowledgements
• About the Author
• Other Books by Gregory Scofield