“The fighting has been raging since dawn” comes live coverage in Sarajevo. Raging since . . . ? The prick or sting of—something like ego? Fighting with myself, mid of night, what battle lurks there? I think what I was thinking back inside the covers was who maintains? or how maintain this bodyblood mind? (but not to slip into old defense pattern) for the true benefit of others. Becomes choiceless the work to do, it’s “cut out” to do already. To write. And I think what makes poetry work is intrinsic built-in contradiction of absolute and relative truth. And people are dying. People are being slaughtered, are dying.