Kinłání Crybaby

Even to this day

I am a Kinłání crybaby

A rupture of bigots

Wanting to sell me a golden ticket

All in the while fingers are crossed

Behind their backs

While something lacks

Behind a smile

That wants my autonomy to be

Controlled by their bank

 

I am a Kinłání crybaby

That has grown up

Seeing my transient relatives

Wander the streets

Drinking all our trauma away

Then to read about it

The next day

Exposure, in a cold lonely tunnel

 

Where bottles and bodies

Come and go

By the Wal-mart on

the east side of town

There are nights, I worry

My brother, himself, will have

A 10 word description laid out

In the local daily scum

He was someone’s son

They will not say

 

Bilagaana’s probably wonder

“Why is she such a Flagstaff crybaby?!”

We acknowledge them now

But do they?

 

Do they know they are a guest among Doko’oosliid?*

A female mountain whose presence tells us

Hozho is not just a word but a way of life

 

Snowbirds, they say, outsiders, come every year

To trample on snow that was not meant to be

Instead they ask

“Why are you crying?”

The American way tells us

Home is everywhere

And we are a guest nowhere

 

This Kinłání crybaby

says you’re a guest, yes

But what is a guest among the sacred to you?

 

♥Solange- Mad♥

*Kinłání- literal translation is many houses or Flagstaff, AZ

*Doko’oosliid- Abalone Shell Mountain or the San Francisco peaks in Flagstaff, AZ

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