WEBVTT

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I read you a poem from the
section of this book called

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"Prisoners".

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Which is called, "Thinking
about El Salvador."

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It was written in
1982 but I think

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I'm going to have to drop the
date off it unfortunately.

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"Because every day they
chop heads off I'm silent.

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In each person's
head they chopped off

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was a tongue, for each
tongue they silence,

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a word in my mouth
unsays itself.

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From each person's head two
eyes looked at the world,

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for each gaze they cut a line
of seeing unwords itself.

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Because every day
they chop heads off,

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no force flows into language.

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Thoughts think
themselves worthless.

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No blade of machete
threatens my neck,

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but its muscles
cringe and tighten.

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My voice hides in
its throat cave,

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ashamed to sound into
that silence, the silence.

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Of raped women, of priests
and peasants, teachers

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and children, of all, whose
heads every day float down

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the river.

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And rot, and sink.

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Not Orpheus heads still singing,
bound for the sea, but mute."

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[APPLAUSE]

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