It seems like the poems are getting longer.
The poets seem angrier and have more to
say on the subject, that, of course, being

“race.” The rhythm, the rhyme, the swing
and the sway (of indigenous, black, brown
artists) reveals anger not joy as if to say, “We

aren’t going to take this anymore,” and can
anyone, anyone blame the swing and the
sway for being angraay? Well, of course,

there will always be those, according to
dialectical philosophy, who stand in dia-
metrical opposition to the rhythm, the

rhyme, the swing and the sway of cosmic
unitaay which if such unity in diversity is
to be realized must contain and reflect the

very real, legitimate anger that swings and
sways through the day — day after day
come what may — part of cosmic reality.