Jeremy Dutcher: Wolastoqiyik futurities

pesk, nis, nihi, new, nan … I count my fingers in a language that lies quietly in my tongue. I string together the words I know to form a linguistic constellation, of sorts. Speaking mostly in English, while peppering in the words that have been witnessed by time far unknown to my consciousness and which still travel through the air today, I wait intently for when the language might grace me: at the kitchen table, on the phone with my muhsum, a “qeyyy nitap!!!!” in my Instagram DMs.

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