The World Makes Liars Of Us All.

It's Not Just: You Get Off The Plane, You're Back Home, Everything's Fine. Maybe The Physical Danger Ends, But Soldiers Are Still Deeply At Risk Of Being Injured In A Different Way.

There's Something Immediate About The Experience Of Reading A Poem - Whether It's The Music Or Some Other Element Of It - That Just Seems To Access Another Part Of The Brain. You Know, Charles Olson Talks About This Transfer Of Energy That Happens Between The Writer And The Reader Of The Poem. I Guess There's Something Essential To Me About Acknowledging Upfront The Immensity Of It - The Difficulty Of It - And Even Allowing That To Be The Subject.

I Understand That It's Incredibly Difficult To Watch What's Happening On The News Every Day And Not Become Inured To It. I've Fallen Victim To That Myself, Wanting To Look Away.

Michael Koryta's Those Who Wish Me Dead Is An Absolutely Thrilling Read. I Read Most Of It With My Breath Held, Occasionally Exhaling To Ask Myself, 'what Will Happen Next?' I Highly Recommend It.

But I Remember Being Told That The Truth Does Not Depend On Being Believed.