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MANIFESTO
Lavendra Copen
for Diane Freund I admire, though sometimes weary of them: poets who pipe up, tell all, spill the beans. Why do they allow the ravaged cat out of the bag? Confession’s good for the soul, is why, and so is pinning the blame on the asshole. The absolute power of the perpetrator corrupts absolutely but shrivels like a blind spider in the sear of truth. Illumination makes it hard for those who harm to cower in the shadows of our fear and fatigue. Let us make it even tougher for them. No matter how worn we are, let’s absolve our childhood selves, stand toe-to-toe with the old terrors. Let us speak the first word and the next and never, never stop.
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