In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

38 Love, Here’s the Deal What I first wanted to say was more fire. Was that we needed fire to turn all the wicked tongues and hands and eyes to ash. Fire to make of the knife-sharp and useless theories the smoke, the subtle poison that they are. Wanted to say it’s a burning we need, and from the ash some new thing. But that sounds like a bullshit poem in the making. Besides—to be true—fire does not a bloody land make bloom. Does not of the thousand razor-wired walls, or the documents, or the cities and cities and cities of dead turning beneath our feet make a kind of music. Who’s the genius came up with that one? Here’s what I think I’m trying to say: Somewhere there’s a road. Some of us are going to find it. You can come if you want. gay pages-2.indd 38 10/18/10 11:20 AM ...

Share