After my very moving and inspiring visit
to North Vietnam, what happened in December and January,
the terror bombing of Hanoi and the rest of North Vietnam
was, as you can imagine, particularly excruciating
for me because I could think of specific places
and specific people when I heard about it.
And I wrote this poem in January.
It's called "Goodbye to Tolerance."
And it was printed in a magazine in New York called West End.
And apparently, the author has been
getting-- the editor of the magazine
has been getting a lot of flack about this poem.
Well, both ways, actually.
I've had a number of letters about it that were very--
that expressed solidarity with my feeling.
The editor has been getting a lot
of letters that were pretty annoyed by this,
and took it very personally.
About which I have no regrets whatsoever.
"Goodbye to Tolerance."
January 1973.
"Genial poet, pink-faced earnest wits.
You have given the world some choice morsels, gobbets
of language presented as one presents t-bone steak
and cherries jubilee.
Goodbye.
I don't care if I never taste your fine food again,
neutral fellows, seers of every side.
Tolerance, what crimes are committed in your name.
And you, good women, bakers of nicest bread, blood donors,
your crumbs choke me.
I would not want a drop of your blood in me.
It is pumped by weak hearts, perfect pulses that
never falter.
Irresponsive to nightmare reality.
It is my brothers, my sisters, whose blood
spurts out and stops forever because you choose to believe
it is not your business.
Goodbye.
Your poems shut their little mouths.
Your loaves grow moldy.
A gulf has split the ground between us.
And you won't wave, you're looking another way.
We shan't meet again, unless you leap it,
leaving behind you the cherished worms of your dispassion,
your pallid ironies, your jovial, murderous, wry-humored,
balanced judgment.
Leap over, unbalanced.
Then how our fanatic tears would flow and mingle for joy."
[APPLAUSE]