Poetry Is A Fireplace In Summer Or

They Are The Kinds Of Things That Make Us A Community: Attachment To Place, Attachment To Local Arts Traditions, The Ability To Read Literature, The Ability To Look At Paintings, The Sense Of Connectedness To The Land, The Sense Of Community That Comes From People Taking Care Of Their Own.

[cesar] Vallejo Was At Least Metaphorically Killed By Fascist Forces, In The Sense That He Wore Himself Out Raising Funds For The Republicans In The Spanish Civil War And Got Sick And Died.

If You're Going To Get Up To Walt Whitman And Robert Frost And Langston Hughes And Sylvia Plath You've Got To Figure Out How You Put People In Possession Of Their Heritage. To Do That You Have To Talk About How They're Being Taught, And The Imagination Of Community The People Who Are Running Our Government Have.

There's A Good Deal In Pound's And Eliot's Poetry That Stood Up Even Though Their Politics Were Deplorable. Or Pound's Very Deplorable, Eliot's Kind Of Deplorable.

Poetry Is A Fireplace In Summer Or A Fan In Winter.