{"id":103,"date":"2009-02-13T13:05:08","date_gmt":"2009-02-13T17:05:08","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/?p=103"},"modified":"2009-02-13T13:05:08","modified_gmt":"2009-02-13T17:05:08","slug":"preface-to-a-twenty-volume-suicide-note-amiri-baraka","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/?p=103","title":{"rendered":"Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note &#8211; Amiri Baraka"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Lately, I&#8217;ve become accustomed to the way<br \/>\nThe ground opens up and envelopes me<br \/>\nEach time I go out to walk the dog.<br \/>\nOr the broad edged silly music the wind<br \/>\nMakes when I run for a bus&#8230;<\/p>\n<p>Things have come to that.<\/p>\n<p>And now, each night I count the stars.<br \/>\nAnd each night I get the same number.<br \/>\nAnd when they will not come to be counted,<br \/>\nI count the holes they leave.<\/p>\n<p>Nobody sings anymore.<\/p>\n<p>And then last night I tiptoed up<br \/>\nTo my daughter&#8217;s room and heard her<br \/>\nTalking to someone, and when I opened<br \/>\nThe door, there was no one there&#8230;<br \/>\nOnly she on her knees, peeking into<\/p>\n<p>Her own clasped hands<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Lately, I&#8217;ve become accustomed to the way The ground opens up and envelopes me Each time I go out to walk the dog. Or the broad edged silly music the wind Makes when I run for a bus&#8230; Things have come to that. And now, each night I count the stars. And each night I [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[44],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-103","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-talking-to-someone"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/103","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=103"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/103\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":154,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/103\/revisions\/154"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=103"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=103"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=103"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}