Nothing changes until it's changed in everyone's memories. Earl S. Braggs remembers and records his experience, protesting America's attempt to make him smaller than these large, vivid, Kerouacian, music-saturated poems. The reader is returned, through repetition's felicities -- the epic extension of the moment of composition -- inward to our national soul. -- Alice Notley

from A Long Glimpse Into the Surreal

Now suppose I showed to you a portrait 
of Lee Miller without
showing her portrait to you. Would you question
the dialogue between love and life long enough 
        to believe in me

and Man Ray walking half drunk because
Man Ray does not drink because 
        Man Ray is dead as a blue pan. 
Do you believe

in the unsilent color of the color red
blended out of context then blended slowly
into the slow motion movement of
slow cream three shades whiter than white
poured into the white
smoothness of her face? Lee Miller, her dress 
black velvet crazy

juxtaposed, too lazy for a photographic pose
against the angle of her arm
just as white as white as ...
I am not.