Part of a series of Native poetry collected by Mark Turcotte.

My ancestors want you to know they see it coming.
They feel the Earth shaking from the trauma Colonization has inflicted on her.
They smell the Earth leaking gas and oil: her putrid breath, her blood leaking from her.
They hear her wails as Colonization still beats and bruises and pimps her to the highest bidder.
(poetry)