The Poem Is In My Hands, And

The Poem Is Neither Here Nor There, And With A Girl's Breast It Can Illuminate The Nights. With The Glow Of An Apple It Fills Two Bodies With Light And With A Gardenia's Breath It Can Revive A Homeland!

I've Built My Homeland, I've Even Founded My State - In My Language.

I Want To Find A Language That Transforms Language Itself Into Steel For The Spirit--a Language To Use Against These Sparkling Insects, These Jets.

I Have Learned And Dismantled All The Words In Order To Draw From Them A Single Word: Home.

Every Beautiful Poem Is An Act Of Resistance.