 I've known Al for many a year. He and I have kept open the possibility of telephonic conversation for hours on end, moving from subject to subject in an endless exploration of the likely and the unlikely. He can talk about anything and frequently does. I've admired Al for many a year and have written about his work. I hope he'll mention Ogabuga and P.C. Mack, figures who allow him to explore aspects of selfhood which might not be so easily explored where he'd say, I. In a way, we look to this writer not for a sense of sincerity which might easily turn out to be bogus, but for an illuminating dissembling even play. What Young is doing and what we experience as we read his work is close to what he calls in African American literature the masked or dual aspect of African American culture. Quote, even though these now classic Negro spirituals spoke at one level of Jesus and heaven and chariots and angels, they also told other stories and expressed other sentiments beyond the surface meaning of their texts. That Al Young's frequently enigmatic poetry is always reaching. Dream, sound, blue, light. Words frequently found in Al Young's work. How does one measure intellect? How does one measure heart? Words adores deeply. Words adores deeply. How does one measure heart? Words adores, deeds adores. The terms dream, sound, blue, light are a measure. Al Young is a thinking being, a political animal. Zun politikon living in the polis Berkeley. I see him there measuring flowers, photographing dreams, looking to the blue sky, standing between the inner and the outer. Speaking, sounding, dreaming, shedding light in the bright Berkeley dawn.