Wednesday, October 22, 2008

The Powwow At The End of the World



The Powwow at the End of the World
by Sherman Alexie


I am told by many of you that I must forgive and so I shall
after an Indian woman puts her shoulder to the Grand Coulee Dam
and topples it. I am told by many of you that I must forgive
and so I shall after the floodwaters burst each successive dam
downriver from the Grand Coulee. I am told by many of you
that I must forgive and so I shall after the floodwaters find
their way to the mouth of the Columbia River as it enters the Pacific
and causes all of it to rise. I am told by many of you that I must forgive
and so I shall after the first drop of floodwater is swallowed by that salmon
waiting in the Pacific. I am told by many of you that I must forgive and so I shall
after that salmon swims upstream, through the mouth of the Columbia
and then past the flooded cities, broken dams and abandoned reactors
of Hanford. I am told by many of you that I must forgive and so I shall
after that salmon swims through the mouth of the Spokane River
as it meets the Columbia, then upstream, until it arrives
in the shallows of a secret bay on the reservation where I wait alone.
I am told by many of you that I must forgive and so I shall after
that salmon leaps into the night air above the water, throws
a lightning bolt at the brush near my feet, and starts the fire
which will lead all of the lost Indians home. I am told
by many of you that I must forgive and so I shall
after we Indians have gathered around the fire with that salmon
who has three stories it must tell before sunrise: one story will teach us
how to pray; another story will make us laugh for hours;
the third story will give us reason to dance. I am told by many
of you that I must forgive and so I shall when I am dancing
with my tribe during the powwow at the end of the world.



Sherman Alexie, “The Powwow at the End of the World” from The Summer of Black Widows. Copyright © 1996 by Sherman Alexie. Used by permission of Hanging Loose Press.

Source: Twentieth-Century American Poetry (2004).

5 comments:

Glenn Buttkus said...

E-blogger has changed its format for commenting. This is merely a test to see how it loads the comments.

Anonymous said...

Ah, my good and faithful friend..:) Funny that this is the poem that has undone me while reading Alexie's poems from the beginning down to here. Funny how I was thinking to myself, gee, isn't it funny that this poem should affect 2 people at this point, not knowing whether the commenter had been reading from the first Alexie poem from the top down or just picked up somewhere in between. I am struck with wonder - as the tiny, hardly noticeable teardrop makes its way down my cheek and rounds the bend of my left nares, that another one starts from the top my left eye, slips over the rim onto my cheek making its way down when I see the commenter is you, Glenn. Synchronicity enfolds simpaticos, no?

I was going to drop in here, read a few, comment on a few, then back to bizness - but no - I was sucked in again as usual, got caught in a reverie reading Alexie, looking at your movie posters, etc., and then again reading Alexie.

Why do I wait to comment until my eyes fill with tears, I wonder..?

Hope you are well; you give my spirit a shot in the arm every time you leave me some of your precious words. Truth.. {{{hugs}}}

Glenn Buttkus said...

Read to your heart and soul's content, there lady. I am really enjoying your "return" to the blogways, now that your sabbatical is completed. Thanks for being you. Your heart looks good on your sleeve. Hugs in return.

Glenn

Anonymous said...

Oh God, that it would be so that my sabbatical has ended, my dear.. We've hit snags and had to pay another month's rent on Mary Lynne's big apt., Glenn. We've also run out of steam. Everything takes so much longer than expected; especially arranging for people to get together at the same time, coming from other states around us. Ack! We've done a heck of a lot of work, but have so much more to do. We also decided to give Mary Lynn's car to a young man who mows our lawn. He lost his Mom last year and it appears that his Dad has taken up with another woman who doesn't like this young man much; he's in his mid-20's, been very protected, real country boy, seems just a little 'slow', is used to doing odd jobs and all, desperate for work and has no transportation. Big Mouth Hubby-Bubba told the young man 2 weeks ago that he was going to give him ML's car (I have no problem with the 'giving' part, we're just like that - it's the 'telling' so soon part that frosts me), but first have to get it running, inspected, get necessary transfer papers from one state to another, etc., and we haven't even been able to deal with the dang car yet. I don't know why Big Mouth couldn't wait until about 2 days out of handing it over before telling this desperate young man that we were giving him a fairly new and well-cared for car! It's parked down in the bowels of her apt. building and hasn't been used for almost a year (more maybe?) and we can't get Hubby-Bubba's big ol' 4x4 king cab down there without scraping the roof of the cab,to jump start the dang thing.. yada yada yada. You probably get the drift by now..sorry! :)

So no. It's far from over. I just miss my friends here and will try to pop in more frequently, erratically I'm sure, but we'll see how it goes.

By the way, I love your new photo and upgrade to the blog. Kewl!

Anonymous said...

What is the meaning behind this poem?