(…) So-called poets did readings of their poems… in muzzle. Is this Art? Is this poetry? Definitely not. This is fakeness, and it hurts. (…) At home, I put a “Tree of life” incense, laid down next to my purring peaceful baby girl Ekiki, and allowed myself to heal by reading real poetry, art… which comes from the soul and plays the tunes of freedom, and eternity.