Poem: Hold the Milk

I’ve been sick for so long that feeling well is strange.

After the surgery, everything has been clear.

My mind, like a steel trap.

Things got even better the other day when I stopped putting milk in my coffee.

I am a poor Viking. I’m lactose intolerant.

They say, more than 500 years ago, the Norse were the first Europeans to arrive in the Americas.

How, I often wondered, did that meeting go?

Legend says the Norse were trying to play nice, but they offered First Nations people milk.

Native people fell ill and, as the story goes, they thought the Norse were trying to poison them.

That misunderstanding led to a fight which First Nations people won.

My first memories are of a dairy farm not far from my house.

Back when there were still small, family farms.

Could we ally ourselves together, I ask, during this period when we hope of decolonization?

I’m asking for millions of post-op Euroamericans.

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