Art, Whose Honesty Must Work Through Artifice,

Grief Held Back From The Lips Wears At The Heart; The Drop That Refused To Join The River Dried Up In The Dust.

I Feel More Helpless With You Than Without You.

You Must Write, And Read, As If Your Life Depended On It.

There's Been Real Hostility Toward Political Poetry In The U.s., Hostility Or, At Best, Incomprehension. I'm Speaking Of Those Who Have Institutional Power Over What Gets Published, Over Grants Andprizes And Reviewing. Most Of Them, Though Not All, Arewhite And Male. But Even As American Society Is Unravelling, Becoming More Violent And Punitive, Wonderful Political Poetshave Been Emerging.

A Revolutionary Poem Will Not Tell You Who Or When To Kill, What And When To Burn, Or Even How To Theorize. It Reminds You... Where And When And How You Are Living And Might Live, It Is A Wick Of Desire.