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'Let us now praise famous cities,' says Alicia Ostriker in Waiting for the Light. Indeed, let us now praise these poems, their ferocity, tenderness, intelligence, compassion, and joy. A seeker and seer in the tradition of Whitman, Ostriker searches for the 'light that stabs me with joy' amid the sidewalks, schoolyards, marketplaces, and many tongues of her beloved New York, spurred by 'ancestors who remember tenements.' A walker in the city and a walker in the world, she knows about the flow of dollars and blood through the streets, speaking fearlessly against whoever crushes the body and the spirit. Wait for the light no longer; the light is right here, in the pages of this book.