Art for Alex

the map is decades old
some maps are old and valuable
this one isn’t

it’s a paperback atlas
that centres the US
(—for which a unique Indigenous designation
(—does not exist.
(—The United States of America does not exist
(—in law; it was founded on theft and genocide.
with a map of each state.
(—The states come closer to having
(—Indigenous names – every last one pronounced wrong –
(— and the borders often respect rivers.

this page I tore out has Montréal
(—Kanien’kehá:ka Territory
(—Ga-niyen-ge-HAA-ga
(—People of the Flint Territory
in the bottom left corner

I pulled out a piece of plastic I’ve used for forty years

(I was going to say owned but
I’m getting skittish of the word owned)

and using that stencil I, in varying colours,

(bright blue, teal, bright orange, bright green
and lots of greyblack ballpoint pen. It’s hideous.
It’s supposed to be hideous. It’s a wretch’s howl
at cruel fate, not just my death but his. I could
have prevented his death. I could have never
given day to his mother.)

inscribed:

28/7/22
DEAR ALEX:
WHEN YOU ARE
GROWN, THIS MAP
WILL BE OUT-OF-DATE.

I drew an arrow to Dorval
which is just a speck on this map
and printed

This is where your mother used to live

I asked his mother if it was ‘too much’
and she said
He’ll appreciate it when he’s older.

I made this to acknowledge
that his world will burn and drown
and know such anger, and such kindness
wonder and terror
that I won’t know.

Published by

Allegra

Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

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