The Blood of Others
Alive, I read the poems of the dead,
I who laugh and cry and can shout
"iPatria Libre o Morir!"
on the back of a flatbed truck
the day we enter Managua.
I read the poems of the dead,
watch the ants in the grass,
my bare feet, your straight hair,
the curve of your back
after hours of meetings.
I read the poems of the dead
and fear this blood that fuels our love
does not belong to us.
One of the consequences of American formalism and New Criticism is that the writing of literary and cultural history has been assigned to the biographer rather than to the critic. Students of Langston Hughes feel this