Society, Like Nature, Is One Body, Really.

We Are The Bird's Eggs. Bird's Eggs, Flowers, Butterflies, Rabbits, Cows, Sheep, We Are Caterpillars; We Are Leaves Of Ivy And Springs Of Wildflower. We Are Women. We Rise From The Wave. We Are Gazelle And Doe, Elephant And Whale, Lilies And Roses And Peach, We Are Air, We Are Flame, We Are Oyster And Pearl, We Are Girls. We Are Woman And Nature. And He Says He Cannot Hear Us Speak. But We Hear.

Perhaps Every Moment Of Time Lived In Human Consciousness Remains In The Air Around Us.

And If The Professional Rapist Is To Be Separated From The Average Dominant Heterosexual (male), It May Be Mainly A Quantitative Difference.

Is It A Coincidence That Stories From The Private Life Became More Popular Just As The Grand Hope For Public Redemption Through Revolution Was Beginning To Sour? I Witnessed A Similar Shift In Taste In My Own Time. In The 1960s, While A Hopeful Vision Of A Just Society Arose Again, Countless Poems And Plays Concerning Politics And Public Life Were Written, Read, And Performed. But After The Hope Diminished And Public Life Seemed Less And Less Trustworthy, This Subject Was Less In Style.

Society, Like Nature, Is One Body, Really.