A Postcolonial Tale
Joy Harjo And Poetic Justice
4:41I’m not afraid of love or its consequence of light. It’s not easy to say this or anything when my entrails dangle between paradise and fear. I am ashamed I never had the words to carry a friend from her death to the stars correctly. Or the words to keep my people safe from drought or gunshot. The stars who were created by words are circling over this house formed of calcium, of blood this house in danger of being torn apart by stones of fear. If these words can do anything if these songs can do anything I say bless this house with stars. Transfix us with love.