Thank you.
Thank you, Chris.
Our next poet, Sunni Parisien, is an Anishinaabe poet
from the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa in North Dakota.
Her poetry is interested in pushing American empire
beyond its imaginative and material borders,
disrupting the archive and honoring the ringing
presence of the homelands, peoples
and stories she emerges from.
Please welcome Sunni.
[APPLAUSE]
Bright lights.
These are bright guys.
[LAUGHTER]
Boozhoo ...[ ] indizhinikaaz Makwa nindoodem Mikinaak Wajiw
Anishinaabe Ishkoniganing nindonjibaa.
Hello, everyone.
My name is Sunni Parisien.
I am from the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa
in North Dakota, and I'm very grateful to be here
with you all tonight.
So thank you for sharing your time with all of us.
So this weather is very different from what
it's like at home right now.
It's very beautiful.
I got sun-burnt, if you couldn't see that, I
need more sunscreen clearly.
I was talking to my sister today,
and she said, enjoy it while you can because as soon as you come
back home, you're going to see that it's
been snowing for days now.
So I'm like, that's awesome.
And so I was like, I think I have
to open with a poem that is about the snow,
because that's something that is an important part of who I am.
And this one is called Solstice.
In December, years ago, evening, eclipsing the city
and snowflakes.
It was the first of the season when we walked together,
postured, particular in our spines,
but syncopating our steps.
I noticed you nearly slipped and cursed the fresh sleet.
I offered my hand while you blamed bad distractions,
bleak seasons, abysmal days, the wrong shoes, the wrong girl,
the wrong anything to feel less red beside me,
less fevering and afraid of the white gauze
offering itself softly, earnestly over the wound.
[APPLAUSE]