The Dominion

A Media Co-op publication

More independent news:
Do you want free independent news delivered weekly? sign up now
Can you support independent journalists with $5? donate today!
Paid for by members. Join them today and support cooperative journalism.

"Idle Hands"

A poem

by Mitcholos Touchie

Dancing with the Ancestors by Frank Belleau
Dancing with the Ancestors by Frank Belleau


Take my hands while this big, big village remains suicidally cis-societal 
in the stench of caffeine, cigarettes & semen; 

instead of sage, sweat & ceremony


It is no sacred ceremony to celebrate Columbus Day; 

for it is simply & sanctimoniously contributing to Custer's continuing posthumous campaign


Cash this reality check in exchange for cultural value as I write it clearly for you:


Compromise is conformity to comfort

Comfort is conducive to complacency

Complacency is a symptom of being idle

Idle no more, and we break the systematic cycle


Since I'm writing poetry,

crafting my identity

and keeping a firm grip on my cultural values

instead of chopping trees for my master,

Christopher Columbus would have both my hands chopped off


I hate to say that not a whole lot has changed


Callous neo-colonizers enact laws

incongruently void of inclusive consultation

that keeps our hands tied

and completely dependent with our hands out for hand outs


Economy and a fair share of our own stolen resources is beyond our reach,

behind the sheets and sheets and layers of sheets on stacks of sheets on parliament hill,

wrapped up and bowed by red tape in the shape of a maple leaf


just a reminder to you now,

idle hands hold us down the most


So I encourage you to cash this reality check,

providing proper ID

'cause all a race card ever got you was a free ride


to fucking jail


Anybody celebrating Columbus Day can take my hands all they want

They are merely limbs without roots

You expect these limbs to rebuild forests when the roots have starved for cultural nourishment since long before 1885


You expect the roots to regrow when the soil's been poisoned since long before 1867


You expect nourishing food for thought your fork tongue doesn't deserve,

You can barely swallow and stomach the truth then complain about mood poisoning,

You eat the fruits of slave labor then complain "it must be something that I hate",

but if you warmed up to the truth, maybe it wouldn't be so rare



while the bows are already drawn



while my own people strangle themselves








You can take my hands


Just know that you can not take the burden of Kanata's countless chieftain corpses, accumulating since 1492


So take my hands,

starting with these two fingers

Paid for by Media Co-op members.
Join them today!
388 words

The site for the Dominion in The Media Co-op network has been archived and will no longer be updated. Please visit the main Media Co-op website to learn more about the organization.