The lights are on

I feel totally wrecked, having just finished Voyage of the Sable Venus and Other Poems, which Wei left us (along with many other gifts) last weekend. We talked a lot about race that weekend, even though three-fourths of us were out of our depth. I feel the same way I did that night as I do now, having finished these poems: weak and weepy with frustration—frustration at myself, at cyclical injustice, at my own culpability and ignorance. What is to be done? How can we make up for all of the evil that has gone on and continued to go on in our nation’s desperate bid to maintain white supremacy?

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