From Forgetfulness
I do not know how to lead them from despair
to a spring of fresh water, clean clothes
and songs to send them brightly
on their way.
Maybe I am speaking of a nation
who does not know
how to mourn the dead
and is too numb or crazy to be aware
of its own dying.
Like the title says, from Forgetfulness, one of the poems at Joy Harjo's Web Log.
Only looked her up and noticed the blog -- which hasn't been up all that long, really -- because I'd quoted another of her poems, I Give You Back, 'bout a year ago.
She'll be at the South Dakota Book Festival early next month, according to her schedule. You know, I'm almost tempted. . .
And it's nice to see there's some good coming out of all this self-indulgent navel-gazing.
Comments
Wait. You can go to SOUTH DAKOTA, but you can't bring yourself to go to texas? What's up with that. Dude, I'm staging a protest if that happens.
Posted by: drublood | September 30, 2003 5:14 PM
Um. . .
You're not going to have the kids chanting anti-Aaron slogans at the protest, are you? Because that would totally break my heart.
Will give some thought to an Austin visit. Clearly I'd be flying, because ain't no way my black ass is driving through no Texas. No offense to you or Ginger.
Posted by: Aaron | October 1, 2003 8:40 AM