a visiting writer read this poem today in a reading and panel discussion. and all i have to say about it is:
— yes, in all caps.
i was left feeling split open to the core in this strangely inexplicable way. i squirmed in my seat. it’s just such an incredibly profound poem on so many levels. it underscores the symbiotic fucked-up-ness of relationships, of life it seems.
if you haven’t, do read “bleeding” by may swenson here. gosh golly wow.
then there’s this, amazingly:
my dream about being white
by lucille clifton