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PoemsMELISSA KING Department of Anthropology University of California, Riverside 1334 Watkins Hall Riverside, CA 92521 Jalali Has Moved to Montana Wasn’t it he who had “survived exile to the interior,” 1 suffered under the seed moon, witnessed the Catastrophes, alone stood by the ape Jumba 2 whom the orphan boys burned with cigarettes? Paul Bunyan’s blue ox stomped up quite a storm at first, but Mher’s devoted equine wasn’t worried in the least. The eagles and the buffalo welcomed him without suspicion. The oldest bear cried, “I know you!” Both possess a circle with a thousand angles. It calls on silence to shimmer, the artist to paint with fury, obedient knees to pick up at the eighth annual march of the Hunger for Justice campaign where hopefully this year the governor will appear. Montana is placid and young. Birds do not flee from memories they wish not to see. Jalali’s magic can make a home here. The medicine is already begun for Zerrin Sarkisian, the girl whose name means golden, like meadow saffron, who asks that you call her simply Erin, who loves Montana for the absence of Anatolia. Anthropology and Humanism, Vol. 36, Issue 2, pp 269–274, ISSN 1559-9167, online ISSN 1548-1409. © 2011 by the American Anthropological Association. All rights reserved. DOI: 10.1111/j.1548-1409.2011.01097.x.

Hunger Strike

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Poemsanhu_1097 269..274

MELISSA KING

Department of AnthropologyUniversity of California, Riverside1334 Watkins HallRiverside, CA 92521

Jalali Has Moved to Montana

Wasn’t it he who had“survived exile to the interior,”1

suffered under the seed moon,witnessed the Catastrophes, alonestood by the ape Jumba2 whomthe orphan boys burnedwith cigarettes?Paul Bunyan’s blue oxstomped up quite a storm at first, butMher’s devoted equinewasn’t worried in the least.

The eagles and the buffalowelcomed him without suspicion.The oldest bear cried,“I know you!”Both possess a circle with a thousand angles.It calls on silence to shimmer,the artist to paint with fury,obedient knees to pick upat the eighth annual march ofthe Hunger for Justice campaign wherehopefully this yearthe governor will appear.

Montana is placid and young.Birds do not flee frommemories they wish not to see.Jalali’s magic can make a home here.

The medicine is already begunfor Zerrin Sarkisian,the girl whose name means golden,like meadow saffron,who asks that you call hersimply Erin,who loves Montana forthe absence ofAnatolia.

Anthropology and Humanism, Vol. 36, Issue 2, pp 269–274, ISSN 1559-9167, online ISSN 1548-1409.© 2011 by the American Anthropological Association. All rights reserved.DOI: 10.1111/j.1548-1409.2011.01097.x.

This poem reflects memories of and musings on my anthropological field-work. It draws on Armenian and U.S. mythology and Armenian Americanliterature to reveal the nature of my location-work in juxtaposition to that ofArmenian American expression. In it, I reflect on the presence of the past,and I ponder the future of relations between the various peoples of Armenianand Turkish identities.

Notes

1. Jalali, a magic and noble horse, was exiled in the Armenian mythology that tells ofhis adventures. He was ordered to remain inside Raven’s Rock, only able to see thehorrors and suffering of his people without the ability to intervene. Bedrosian draws ananalogy between his and their sufferings saying “they both lost track of themselves, theirdestiny suspended in a void” (Bedrosian 1991:27).

2. In Marcom’s novel, an ape named Jumba is the friend and alter-ego for an Arme-nian orphan who eventually kills him (Marcom, 2004).

References Cited

Bedrosian, Margaret1991 The Magical Pine Ring: Armenian-American Literature. Detroit: Wayne State

University Press.Marcom, Micheline Aharonian

2004 The Daydreaming Boy. New York: Riverhead Books.

Hunger Strike

Blood oranges and blue pulledtight around their shoulders,three boys huddledon the chilly corner of Glenoaks,not to keep the cold outbut to satisfy the cravingfor a drink of the Armenian flag.A glossy cell phone advertisementin a European magazine,the red pooled inpuddles at their feet.Narine kept herself hungry, however,hoping for a fluttery echo,history in her belly.

A group of young people with purpose,I know what that feels like—your medals, ribbons, and witparaded in the streets.Honking and headlight flashingtour bus traveling and textingsay namaste.

Young Democrats drinkingpale ales in a hotel in Burbankchannel Komsomol charismaand I could not find a parking space.

270 Anthropology and Humanism Volume 36, Number 2

Ran half a block towatch or whatever,got smacked square in the nose bya heavy, bleeding orange.

In this poem, I remember a specific, aesthetic moment of ethnographic research. TheArmenian Youth Federation held a hunger strike across from the LA Armenian Consu-late in October 2009 days before the signing of protocols between the governments ofTurkey and Armenia. Memories of my own youth activities and a trip to Yerevan,Armenia, were sparked by the experience at the protest and deepened the emotionalinvestment in my academic project.

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