Thomas Claveirole
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Mercedes Eng invokes a visceral scene of bloodshed wrought over injustice. From The Enpipe Line: 70,000 km of poetry written in resistance to the Enbridge Northern Gateway Pipelines proposal. in my dreams the duress the mess it don’t belong to the ladies and their people instead the duress the fear is yours cause my arms are just that strong and wide these arms blood and bone not pipelines, not prisons, not cops, not judges, not ministries of what-the-fuck-ever, not residential schools, not rezs, not truth and reconciliation in my dreams i slay you with my electric guitar made of unceded wood powered by woman blood and bone in earth its sonic edge reverberates through tailing lakes i kill the fascist within whenever you try murder of this ground and the people who own it instead of you raping women in ancient trees and me hearing their cries you hear my warrior cry its sound so loud this earth shakes the blood and bones recompose they rally they call war and they win the oil rigs me and my baby brother saw as we drove all over Alberta visiting our dad in the provinces correctional facilities the institutions where you house the nation i take them extraction machineries gathered in arms of blood and bone up up up the northern lights guide my way and i hurl them at all the prisons that held my daddy and made me ashamed when people thought i was one of those brown bodies prison industrial complex explodes but all the right people live i write poems all over your pipelines directing the oil back to the ground and the blood and bones in this ground is yours in my dreams i lay you motherfuckers down in my dreams