Friday, March 2, 2018

Colten Boushie by Douglas Sinclair

Colten Boushie

is dead
is / was
only 22
a young man
an Indian
growing up
in a white land
expunged
by
the finger
(flip a bird)
on a trigger
squeezed
by a farmer
who chose
to point
death
at a frightened youth
and two girls
who did
what exactly
as they sat 
in that car
with a flat tire
its windshield
shattered
by a hammer’s
sharp assault
what exactly
was their threat
surrounded
by a marauding 
father and son
intent on
what exactly
with three trapped
kids
staring
at a loaded gun
Indian kids
trespassers
on white land
branded
as aliens
outsiders foreigners
in their own land
natives
on native land
First Nations
whose backyard 
was once 
bigger
than Saskatchewan
with no borders
no fences
now squeezed
onto 14,000 acres
corralled
like a herd
of animals
sub-human
in a cage
in a car
with no escape
from a white man
with a gun
with God and country
on his side
“this land is my land”
as he squeezed 
the trigger
Oops!
Oh well 
It’s only an Indian.

Douglas Sinclair is a retired poet/high tech sales guy living in Toronto who also happens to be a member of the Peguis First Nation in Manitoba and has been involved in the indigenous community in Toronto for a number of years as a former President and board member of Native Child and Family Services of Toronto. He self-published one book of poetry “reflections from a broken stream” and has lived in Toronto for 41 years now with his wife and three adult daughters in Toronto, Victoria and Brooklyn, NY.

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The Magnificent (a poem for Colten Boushie) by Lesley Strutt

I would like to dedicate this poem to Colten and all those who are grieving for him, who feel lost, frightened, unheard, unseen, excluded...