No one has imagined us. We want to live like trees, sycamores blazing through the sulfuric air, dappled with scars, still exuberantly budding, our animal passion rooted in the city.
A thinking woman sleeps with monsters.
The mind's passion is all for singling out. Obscurity has another tale to tell.
The connections between and among women are the most feared, the most problematic, and the most potentially transforming force on the planet.
At twenty, I implicitly dissociated poetry from politics.
The repossession by women of our bodies will bring far more essential change to human society than the seizing of the means of production by workers.
