For some reason this seemed like a good place to start. I don't know if I'll ever be able to reconcile myself to this poem, having actually written a poem about crumbs of dust in the light when I was in high school. This recording starts a couple lines into the poem, so here's what got cut out:
War on the horizon.
A ship with a bloody sail.
Andy Young slips on his Chamberlain appeasement getup he got from years listening to the CP hype Martin Luther King
Against Bourgeois Art - Amiri Baraka
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