Post-Colonial Love Poem: Dark humour flickering like a whiplash

Natalie Diaz tackles erasure like it’s never been tackled before, implying that colonialism may not be ‘post’ after all

Portrait of Natalie Diaz in her studio in Phoenix, Arizona. Photograph: John D and Catherine T/ MacArthur Foundation

Portrait of Natalie Diaz in her studio in Phoenix, Arizona. Photograph: John D and Catherine T/ MacArthur Foundation

“– everyone knows angels are white. Quit bothering with angels…They are no good for Indians…you better hope you never see angels on the rez…If you do, they’ll be marching you off to Zion or Oklahoma …”

Natalie Diaz’s darkly funny Abecedarian Requiring Further Examination of Anglikan Seraphym Subjugation of a Wild Indian Rezervation introduced me to When My Brother Was an Aztec, a key poetry collection from the last decade. In Post-Colonial Love Poem, Diaz has built something even more extraordinary.

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