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There isn’t even a discussion. There aren’t any words. You just start swinging—the building is a fence, your cousins are a fence. The two of you are surrounded. There’s no escape for either of you.
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I knew that just as the country was reverting, so was I. Every face now seemed a potential enemy and these were feelings I had not felt in almost twenty years.
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1972: War was waging in Vietnam and kids were coming home in boxes. Hippes and yippies went clean for Gene McCarthy, but George McGovern won the democratic nomination. Tricky Dick Nixon was the one for the Republicans and the so-called Silent Majority. I was a sixteen-year-old runaway revolutionary of peace and love, living in a commune, […]
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Love. Because our collective survival depends on it.
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Look through these images, and feel proud. Feel inspired. Know that yes, the battle is uphill and will be hard-won, but it will be won.
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We poets do not believe the world belongs to us. Our existence is a miracle, and yet we know our world is limited.
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