My Body, Plowed By Your Body, Will

Poets Have The Gift To Speak For Others, Vasko Popa Had The Very Rare Quality Of Hearing The Others.

With Great Difficulty Advancing By Millimeters Each Year, I Carve A Road Out Of The Rock. For Millenniums My Teeth Have Wasted And My Nails Broken To Get There, To The Other Side, To The Light And The Open Air. And Now That My Hands Bleed And My Teeth Tremble, Unsure In A Cavity Cracked By Thirst And Dust, I Pause And Contemplate My Work. I Have Spent The Second Part Of My Life Breaking The Stones, Drilling The Walls, Smashing The Doors, Removing The Obstacles I Placed Between The Light And Myself In The First Part Of My Life.

Revolt Is The Violence Of An Entire People; Rebellion The Unruliness Of An Individual Or An Uprising By A Minority; Both Are Spontaneous And Blind. Revolution Is Both Planned And Spontaneous, A Science And An Art.

Every Moment Is Nothing Without End.

We Must Cultivate And Defend Particularity, Individuality, And Irregularity-life. Human Beings Do Not Have A Future In The Collectivism Of Bureaucratic States Or In The Mass Society Created By Capitalism. Every System, By Virtue As Much Of Its Abstract Nature As Of Its Pretension To Totality, Is The Enemy Of Life. As A Forgotten Spanish Poet, José Moreno Villa, Put It With Melancholy Wit: "i Have Discovered In Symmetry The Root Of Much Iniquity."