Do Not Call Me By My Name

“These poems are placed like cold steel beds lined up row upon row. Visceral. Lisa Shatzky writes in gunmetal residue—evidence bagged from Canada’s largest crime scene of the Residential School era. As she opened the vaulted doors into each child’s memory, she was slashed by tormented truth, laughter at lost blood, lost stories. In this collection, you’ll witness bruised stones, shattered sparrow prayers, an eight year old playing dead, the blue above, blue below a man about to jump. All the while in the room where you read, ghost dancers’ shadows emerge through thick walls. Watching blood and ink mix. Waiting to be fed. Waiting to be invited in.” — Sandra Lynn Lynxleg, child of a Residential School Survivor and District Principal of Aboriginal Education, School District 22 Vernon

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