From Laurie Sheck’s Notebook
The light of the world we live in: neon, frenzied, traffic lights, marquee lights, ambulance light, high crime lights, television screens, their flickering, and strobe lights, headlights. This quickness.
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If one had no belief in human goodness, in tenderness, or any hope for it, could one feel terror?
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If I am watching the 11 o’clock news and there is a person on the screen suffering, mutilated, grieving, whatever, and that person doesn’t feel real to me, or only real in the most cursory and fleeting of ways, aren’t I participating in the violation and degradation of that person? Poetry is subversive in that it stands in opposition to vicarious, distanced watching, to spectatorship and morbid curiosity.