I discovered this book by chance when I was something like sixteen or seventeen, one of the last remaining used bookstores in New Hope, Pennsylvania. The store was stationed in a basement that would soon be flooded out of business as a result of hurricane aftermath ravaging the Delaware and everything on its coastline.
It could be said that this gaunt volume conceived the faith I now have in my love affair with poetry. In my memory, it is one of the first books I read by a contemporary, hitherto unknown author that resonated with my life experiences. Racism, history, urban upbringing, loss, disease, queer sexuality, and as always, resilience. Cassells' Soul Make a Path through Shouting continues inspiring my own poetry and, when necessary, galvanizing my incentive to amble up and down the rickety stairs that life has more than once built for me. Whenever I pick it up now, I feel like I'm locking hands with an old friend. Thanks.