On the Day of the Orange Shirt

—the 30^th of September

They say nothing

rhymes with orange.

I find that rather strange.

Maybe nothing rhymes with

truth. Goes with reconcile.

Performative

has no verbal doppel-

ganger. OK that’s a bit too harsh.

The bank is closed today.

Nothing jibes too well with

hypocrite. Genocide’s always funded.

Just dig a little deeper in the stratum.

The pipeline ramming

through what’s Wet’suwet’en

has no rhyme. Especially today.

There’s nothing to correspond

with "Phyllis Webstad"—

Phyllis. Syllabus.

No, that’s only

approximate. And the school

board shot it down.

But here’s another Land

Acknowledgement.

Of course we can’t give it

back. Remember to boil

your water for 30 years.

My neighbour swigs Corona

on his porch. Says it’s a

holiday. Adds why

don’t they get over it

already.

I try to Google that. It’s

decked in orange ribbon.

A single fallen feather.

I guess that means they care.

They could have put a

citrus fruit instead. Fits with

white & plunder. Something

from a grove they say is

theirs.

Andreas Gripp

September 30, 2025

Charliss Santos