from a NYT book review:
We will find our kind in Andromeda,
we will become our true selves.
I will be the mother who
never hurt you, and you will have your childhood back in full blossom...
We might not know
who we are at first, there, without our terrible pain.
...And here we are again
no cake without breaking
eggs, unless it's a vegan cake
in which there are never any eggs
only the issue, the question,
the primacy of eggs,
which remains even in animal-free
foods, eaten by animal-free
humans in an inhumane world.
"...honesty and the unflinching gaze", the reviewer describes the poet's vision.
And so I would, for myself, take on this firm gaze, will it,
unwilling to relinquish the pain if it means denial.
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