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The boundary of who I am is the boundary of the body, but the boundary of the body never fully belongs to me. Survival depends less on the established boundary to the self than on the constitutive sociality of the body. But as much as the body, considered as social in both its surface and depth, is the condition of survival, it is also that which, under certain social conditions, imperils our lives and our survivability. Forms of physical coercion are precisely the unwilled imposition of force on bodies: being bound, gagged, forcibly exposed, ritually humiliated. We might then ask what, if anything, accounts for the survivability of those whose physical vulnerability has been exploited in this way. Of course, the fact that one's body is never fully one's own, bounded and self-referential, is the condition of passionate encounter, of desire, of longing, and of those modes of address and addressability upon which the feeling of aliveness depends. But the entire world of unwilled contact also follows from the fact that the body finds its survivability in social space and time; and this exposure or dispossession is precisely what is exploited in the case of unwilled coercion, constraint, physical injury, violence.

Poetry, above all, is a series of intense moments - its power is not in narrative. I'm not dealing with facts, I’m dealing with emotion.

This thing happens You write half a poem And then stop At the first sign of difficulty So you have all these half-poems The drooping heads of flowers You call lilies as a placeholder Stemless, waiting Open-mouthed. 

THERE IS ALWAYS SOMETHING!!! ALWAYS SOMETHINGGG