Status Updates From Native Guard: Poems

“Our shadows, dark glyphs on the wall, / bigger and stranger than we are.” - Southern Gothic

“When men die, we eat their share of hardtack / trying not to recall their hollow sockets, / the worm-stitch of their cheeks. Today we buried / the last of our dead from Pascagoula, / and those who died retreating to our ship — / white sailors in blue firing upon us / as if we were the enemy.” Whatever you’re doing, stop and look up Native Guard the poem.