Dear Dispatches:

From my grave somewhere outside Granada, I would like to suggest the following, and you really should stop beating around the bush about it:

Until the Poetry Foundation publicly apologizes on hands and knees for the violent outrage it committed against the spirit of the whole poetry community, incarcerating a perfectly civil disobedient young woman poet who was then almost raped in prison, and then sending two reps to her hearing to argue for sending her back for more (they did this), and then some weeks later calling the cops on peacefully demonstrating Infrarealist yank poets who were, as well, honoring the work of Raul Zurita, who was reading that night, the PF trying to incarcerate them, too, which the Chicago cops they’d called in a panic surely would have done had the protesters not broken through the uniformed and ear-wired Security goons at the doors, after the PF paid staff had pulled down the lovely, hand-painted banners that said VIVA CADA and something about PROZAC AND POETRY and torn them to shreds….Until the PF publicly and beseechingly apologizes for its utter crime, then you should be saying, loud and clear, that all poets of good faith and morals should boycottanything having to do with the Poetry Foundation or its Encounter-like magazine.

This besides the PF’s complicity with corporate capital and various State apparatuses. I am becoming more and more convinced (inasmuch as a pile of moon-white bones might become convinced) that there is intelligence-like shenanigans in much of this, as it all fits perfectly with a program to wipe out poetic autonomous zones of resistance, bringing everyone under one Big Happy and Paid-off Tent of Culture.

To hell with lemons. Those bastards killed me.

Federico Garcia Lorca