Audre Lorde’s 1977 piece “Poetry Is not a Luxury” seems prescient right now. “Poems have alchemized death and imagined the continuation of lives cut short by racist violence. They’ve given texture to the ‘sudden strangeness’ of life brought on by the coronavirus pandemic, offering comfort to countless readers. In moments of uncertainty, poetry has illuminated bridges to the past—and shown how the act of remembering might alter the future.” – The Atlantic