dear canada, you are safe
your indigenous are almost forgotten
your white guilt sheds crocodile tears
a fresh wave of immigrant colonizers cloaks your oncoming karma in the echoes of the first nations' dying breaths
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the sun shines brightly cutting through the haze into tight corners of the post-atomic daze the concrete alley floor, with its broken flow...
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for fourteen years i wished my father dead at the age of eighteen i buried him it would take another six years to be rid of his physica...
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