When you write a poem entitled “an open letter to the white feminists holding a literary panel on Toni Morrison,” you don’t actually think anyone will publish it.
You send it out thinking, at the very least, some junior reader or part-time editor will have something to think about. Because following her sudden death, what writing conference would ever host a panel discussion about Toni Morrison, but not include one (1) Black woman on the dais? The one you attended. So you write a poem. And cast it upon the waters hoping it will do some good.
{It’s like writing a poem entitled “an open letter to the poetry editor of [name withheld on advice from counsel]” about a passive aggressive, racially charged exchange with an editor: no one will ever publish that poem, but those who read it might think about how they interact with their submitters of color after reading it. }
