Heterosexuality has been forcibly and subliminally imposed on women. Yet everywhere women have resisted it, often at the cost of physical torture, imprisonment, psychosurgery, social ostracism, and extreme poverty.

Any woman's death diminishes me.

It is the thirtieth of May, the thirtieth of November, a beginning or an end, we are moving into the solstice and there is so much here I still do not understand.

To do something very common, in my own way.

It's exhilarating to be alive in a time of awakening consciousness; it can also be confusing, disorienting, and painful.

A revolutionary poem will not tell you who or when to kill, what and when to burn, or even how to theorize. It reminds you... where and when and how you are living and might live, it is a wick of desire.

Not biology, but ignorance of ourselves, has been the key to our powerlessness