Theory of Ice

i step over
watery edges 

he pulls the canoe
across the ice 

she paddles to the edge to collect candles
for her old ones to melt and then drink 

you shoot ducks
while it’s still easy 

they gather at the edge
thinking 

they gather in the sky
rethinking 

they swim towards light
thinking otherwise 

sun hits you from above
you melt from the inside out
faint ice as membrane
spreads sound across skin 

aabawe: the first warmth of spring
aabawe: the loosening of the mind
to forgive 

we gathered
in the winter lodge
formed from earth
and ice 

we slowed
prayed
sang
dreamt 

earth below
world above
waiting things out
but together 

the upper parts
are exiled to the bottom
the lower parts
deported to the surface 

there is euphotic rising
and falling
orbits of dispossession
and reattachment 

achieving
maximum density:
39 degrees fahrenheit 

you relax
at the surface
spread apart
cooler holding warmer 

regular
repeated
ordered
locked 

lake as one mind

i saved fallen snow
on my backbone
i saved fallen snow
from the front row 

forsaking tomorrow
slow burning today
the sky is falling up 

i saved shards of hope
in my sky blue coat
i saved drops of light
you paved paradise 

i saved your mistakes
etched them into my skin
the sky is falling up 

i sang like thunder
spilled anger like fire
the sky is falling up 

please don’t mourn me

skin departing bone
ice abandons snow
my skin’s departing bone
pain instead of snow 

a choir is spilling
the morning sun
the sky is falling up 

archiving blindness
in meticulous ways
the sky is falling up 

sweating bits of time
leaking pools of kind
dissolving bits of spine
drowning in sublime 

skin departing bone
ice abandons snow
my skin’s departing bone 

you never saw me
and i never called out
the sky is falling up 

foiled by indifference
melted by greed
please don’t mourn for me
please don’t mourn me

calling out
calling in
you’re not fooling me 

tethered to the kinship
of disassociated
zeros and ones 

shining your crown
of neoliberal
likes 

yelling the loudest
in the
empty room 

gathering
followers
like berries 

feeding
fish
to insecurity 

sliding
into
reckless moment
after reckless moment 

we witness:

too many holes in your hide
the broken skin of a canoe
the brightening of a mind
tracks, leading nowhere 

at the
beach
we build a fire 

sit in our
own
silence 

peel off
blue
light 

lie back
on
frozen
waves 

breathe
in
sharp air

warm
into
each other 

careful moment
after careful moment

and the road only goes one way
and you can’t get lost
the trees drive by
and we carry the river 

i ask you four questions
you give me four answers: 

the ininiwish that lived here
the book that changed your life
and the river only goes one way
and you can’t get lost 

the akiwenzii that assigned you
the oil rig, it sang marx
we keep the critic in the back seat
i keep the answers
in the hollow part of me 

and the river only goes one way
and you can’t get lost 

there are simple stolen moments
these are simple stolen moments
and we love when we are able 

and there are beating wings reminding me if you fly
forever you can have two summers
and the river only goes one way
and you can’t get lost

the frozen sighed
and gave up 

the lake wrote
their letter of resignation 

july 15
30 cubic meters 

just like
the Gwich’in always said 

i bring you coffee
a blanket
moonlight 

i bring you stitches
a feather
three books 

the caribou
sit
measuring emptiness 

the fish
study
giving up 

the molecules
calculate
the effects of hate 

you breakdown
to a less
ordered state 

july 15
30 cubic meters
just like the Gwich’in always said 

the ice breathes
and gives in 

the lake runs
out of options 

the ice breathes
and there are
all kinds
of ways
to fail 

i bring you coffee
a blanket
moonlight 

i bring you stitches
a feather
three books

hello my friend i’ve come
to see you again 

everything we tried to grow
this year has died 

you’ve tripped
inside my head 

numb calm
dulled light
cold red 

wearing just the lake
diminished in the wake 

inside a commune of night
there’s no way to make this right

acorns and fallen stars
a child that wasn’t ours 

ashes in my eyes
crushed fires
and shattered skies 

injured certified
i wish i’d held you when you died 

you’ve tripped
inside my head 

numb calm
dulled light
cold red 

acorns and fallen stars
a child that wasn’t ours
ashes in my eyes
crushed fires 

everything we tried to grow
this year has died 

ashes in my eyes crushed fires
and shattered skies

in a basement full of plastic flowers
pierogis
cabbage rolls 

at the head of the lake
thinking under accusation 

at the mouth of the catastrophic river
disappearing our kids 

at the foot of the nest
beside trailer hitches, coffee, spoons 

we made a circle
and it helped 

the smoke did the things
we couldn’t 

singing
broke open hearts 

i hold your hand
without touching it 

we’re in the thinking part of the lake
faith under accusation 

at the mouth of the river
and the specter of free 

at the foot of Animikig
beside bones of stone and red silver 

in a basement full of increasing entropy
moose ribs, wild rice 

in realization
we don’t exist without each other 

she says: there’s nothing about you
i’m not willing to know