This Is What We Must Do
This Is What We Must Do
Five poems by the late American writer and activist Grace Paley.
Five poems by the late American writer and activist Grace Paley (1922–2007).
Responsibility
It is the responsibility of society to let the poet be a poet
It is the responsibility of the poet to be a woman
It is the responsibility of the poet to stand on street corners
giving out poems and beautifully written leaflets
also leaflets they can hardly bear to look at
because of the screaming rhetoric
It is the responsibility of the poet to be lazy to hang out and
prophesy
It is the responsibility of the poet not to pay war taxes
It is the responsibility of the poet to go in and out of ivory
towers and two-room apartments on Avenue C
and buckwheat fields and army camps
It is the responsibility of the male poet to be a woman
It is the responsibility of the female poet to be a woman
It is the poet’s responsibility to speak truth to power as the
Quakers say
It is the poet’s responsibility to learn the truth from the
powerless
It is the responsibility of the poet to say many times: there is no
freedom without justice and this means economic
justice and love justice
It is the responsibility of the poet to sing this in all the original
and traditional tunes of singing and telling poems
It is the responsibility of the poet to listen to gossip and pass it
on in the way storytellers decant the story of life
There is no freedom without fear and bravery there is no
freedom unless
earth and air and water continue and children
also continue
It is the responsibility of the poet to be a woman to keep an eye on
this world and cry out like Cassandra, but be
listened to this time
Sisters
My friends are dying
well we’re old it’s natural
one day we passed the experience of “older”
which began in late middle age
and came suddenly upon “old” then
all the little killing bugs and
baby tumors that had struggled
for years against the body’s
brave immunities found their
level playing fields and
victory
but this is not what I meant to
tell you I wanted to say that
my friends were dying but have now
become absent the word dead is correct
but inappropriate
I have not taken their names out of
conversation gossip political argument
my telephone book or card index in
what ever alphabetical or contextual
organizer I can stop any evening of
the lonesome week at Claiborne Berovici
Vernarelli Deming and rest a moment
on their seriousness as artists workers
their excitement as political actors in the
streets of our cities or in their workplaces
the vigiling fasting praying in or out
of jail their lightheartedness which floated
above the year’s despair
their courageousness sometimes hilarious
disobediences before the state’s official
servants their fidelity to the idea that
it is possible with only a little extra anguish
to live in this world at an absolute minimum
loving brainy sexual energetic redeemed
People in My Family
In my family
people who were eighty-two were very different
from people who were ninety-two
The eighty-two-year-old people grew up
it was 1914
this is what they knew
War World War War
That’s why when they speak of the child
they say
poor little one . . .
The ninety-two-year-old people remember
it was the year 1905
they went to prison
they went into exile
they said ah soon
When they speak to the grandchild
they say
yes there will be revolution
then there will be revolution then
once more then the earth itself
will turn and turn and cry out oh I
have been made sick
then you my little bud
must flower and save it
News
although we would prefer to talk
and talk it into psychological the-
ory the prevalence of small genocides
or the recent disease floating
toward us from another continent we
must not while she speaks her eyes
frighten us she is only one person
she tells us the terrible news we
want to leave the room we may not
we must listen in this wrong world this
is what we must do we must bear it
Definition
My dissent is cheer
a thankless disposition
first as the morning star
my ambition: good luck
and why not a flight
over the wide dilemna
and then good night to
sad forever
Grace Paley (1922–2007) was an American writer, poet, teacher, and activist.
The poems above were excerpted from A Grace Paley Reader: Stories, Essays, and Poetry (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2017) by Grace Paley. Edited by Kevin Bowen and Nora Paley, with an introduction by George Saunders. Copyright © 2017 by Nora Paley and Danny Paley. All rights reserved.