Subjects Archives: Literature

El ángel del Señor anunció en la víspera. . . El corazón de El Salvador marcaba 24 de marzo y de agonía. Tú ofrecías el Pan, el Cuerpo Vivo — el triturado cuerpo de tu Pueblo; Su derramada Sangre victoriosa — ¡la sangre campesina de tu Pueblo en masacre que ha de teñir en vinos […]

C’est ainsi que cela se passe Tu marches et tu décides de t’arrêter La foule est dense et indomptée Tu es en queue de manifestation Ton walkman sur les oreilles pour ne plus entendre Les mugissements des animaux sauvages Casqués, masqués, harnachés Matant et piégeant les graines de rébellion Tu t’assieds La fatigue t’assaille Trop […]

[Hugh Thompson Jr., who died on January 6, 2006, was a former Army helicopter pilot, who, on March 16, 1968, with door-gunner Lawrence Colburn and crew chief Glenn Andreotta came upon U.S. ground troops killing Viet Namese civilians in and around the village of My Lai. They landed their helicopter in the line of fire […]

  José Martí and Simón Bolívar, two of Latin America’s most respected independence fighters, recognized nearly a century ago that their homelands would never be free of imperial domination, until Latin America came together in solidarity as a united force. Martí and Bolívar’s insights remain relevant in the age of neo-liberal globalization.  The colonizers of […]

The TV glows green like the obsolete computer in the attic blurred shapes that could be buildings or simply the geometry of electrons bright circles of lens flare as accents an abstract electronic image they say is Baghdad. I don’t know Baghdad, don’t know where the missiles are falling I don’t know which buildings are […]

  When the polar bears are drowning and the salmon cross the street And late summer’s on the non-existent breeze; When the yellow clouds are frowning and the snow is always sleet And there’s only five of what were Seven Seas; When it’s ninety in December at the Arctic Circle’s edge And the birds are […]

They thought I was asleep That night they took my brother away No dream I could keep With tears flooding my face He said I could be redeemed Showed me how change takes place Gave me a reason to believe That love forgives mistakes And they thought I was asleep When they took him away […]

“What started it?” “A blind man with a pistol.” “That don’t make sense.” “Sure don’t.” — Chester Himes Minorities and most poor people in the inner cities have always lived with the knowledge that (for them at least) the forces of unlawful suppression and misuse of power far too often masqueraded as the forces of […]

I have two cities but only one home that is my mother’s womb with one long umbilical cord that reaches across thousands of frequent flyer miles. I have two apartments and one window filled with pleats of light and a sooty curtain that no matter the color is a checkered gray. I have “an abiding […]

  In 1958 I wrote the following: There are no hard distinctions between what is real and what is unreal, nor between what is true and what is false. A thing is not necessarily either true or false; it can be both true and false. I believe that these assertions still make sense and do […]

An awesome thing So personal, yet universally A peace it brings To all, the seen and unseen A mighty thing So much a part of humanity Divinity in our being That, at all times, must be seen A powerful thing So simple, yet connected to deity The soul that sings One man’s spirit can change […]

Living is no laughing matter:
you must live with great seriousness
like a squirrel, for example —
I mean without looking for something beyond and above living,
I mean living must be your whole occupation.
Nazim Hikmet, “On Living,” 1947

I always thought I’d do my own cleaning,                         never             forget the working-class way of Italian American women like my mother who kept                         a broom             beside her front door as if it were a sign that read, “we work hard, we clean hard                         so wipe             your damn […]

  “There is a great deal of misinformation feeding on itself about U.S. forces allegedly using ‘outlawed’ weapons in Fallujah. The facts are that U.S. forces are not using any illegal weapons in Fallujah or anywhere else in Iraq.” — U.S. Department of State, 9 December 20041 “But I repeat the point made by my […]

  For the most part, we go along living without thinking much about the world around us. Things just seem to happen without rhyme or reason. My parents knew that people like themselves were not quite the same as people who had a lot more money, but they didn’t reflect very deeply as to why […]

  “I’ve always loved George Plimpton, Norman Mailer, those kinds of guys,” said Kevin’s smiling, catastrophically Caucasian father from his overstuffed recliner, as I waited for the boy to come down the wide, oak stairway with the sheets of music he had scribbled his ideas down onto, but which he had mistakenly left upstairs in […]

  One of the most pleasant (and, for us, unanticipated) consequences of finishing a film is the chance to travel on other people’s tab. In the coming months, we have invitations to travel and screen Zizek! in venues as far flung as Vienna and New York City, Beirut and Columbia (Missouri, that is), primarily at […]

She sat her husband down made the confession she stole food from the refrigerator You mean our refrigerator? You didn’t steal nothin’. Lou, I ate a sweet pickle and two slices of bread.The end pieces. That food’s yours, Flo! I bought that for you to eat. I didn’t ask first. You don’t have to for […]

if she could use her hands to fasten a button twist a knob scribble a letter to tell me she dreams about tailpipes thirteen parts assembled again and over like a broken dance of two palms stroking rubbery backs fingers bowing to partners swollen with gnarled collapse snapping delicate cylinder joints in place for the […]

Leaping from the edge-of-town factory fist, a machinist, buttoned blue sleeves, steps into the autumn noon light. Sits, back to the smokestack, on an old wooden bench opens wax-paper tuna seedless dark rye, a half-sour. A bookkeeper stretches fingers ’round a flat wide thermos, lentil soup, and a welder, unmasked, sips crimson borcht, red confetti […]