 |
|
|
 |
|
When a Queen births a son he must be perfect, even for the woodland Delaware Nation we call the Lenape. What if he is covered with moles, hundreds of moles. A Queen Alukwepi’s midwife chose to put the baby outside the wigwam to die. It was a time of deadly survival for the Lenape who depended on the Queen’s leadership. She would be told the baby died at birth. Who would know? Her mother would know. She saw the odd fur wrapped bundle on the frozen ground. Would his grandmother risk banishment from her village, starvation, even being murdered if they found her trying to raise the defective child? There were things she knew as a medicine woman, things that could free the Mole Boy from his skin curse. He was destined to lead and protect his people in their time of genocide.
Embarrassment from a prank can last forever. So can a voodoo curse if the prankster does not find love before death.
My third book of poems includes a chapter on how history is being erased and our memories fade with time. Yes, there is a chapter of poems about mathematics.
|
|
|