Margaret Randall

Margaret Randall
Photo by Juan Pérez
“Then I saw what the calling was :
it was the road I traveled”
- Muriel Rukeyser

My life and work have been profoundly informed by parents who gave me love and adventure, and encouraged creativity; the dramatic desert canyons, rich colors and open skies of the southwestern United States; Socialist ideals; the second wave of feminism; and the generous mentorship of many great friends and colleagues. My children, grandchildren, and great grandchild are always with me, even when far away; and my spouse Barbara is bedrock. New York’s abstract expressionist painters in the 1950s, Mexico and her struggles of the 1960s, the Cuban revolution’s second brave decade in the 1970s, the Vietnamese people’s struggle against US attack and occupation in that same decade, and the Sandinista attempt to change Nicaragua in the early 1980s were places and events that shaped me. The exploration of ancient sites continues to be a source of nourishment, and I have long been involved with oral tradition. I deeply believe in humanistic values, combating our culture of violence and greed, and art as a tool for change. I invite you to enter my website, learn about my books, read my poetry and look at my photographic images.

Most recent articles

Latest articles

  • El Corno Emplumado 15

    , by Margaret Randall

    After three and a half years of on-time publication, El Corno had become an institution. With #15 we broke with our tradition of typographic covers, and used our first cover art: a moving photograph by Mexico’s Nacho Lopez of a group of men—homeless? day laborers? the urban displaced?.
    In this (...)

  • El Corno Emplumado 1

    , by Margaret Randall

    El Corno Emplumado 1 was the first issue of a new bilingual quarterly out of Mexico City. Sergio Mondragon, Harvey Wolin (who left the project shortly after this issue), and Margaret walked Mexico City’s Streets looking for poetry and patronage. Support came from Jose Goroztiza, Mexico’s (...)

  • Memory Says Yes

    , by Margaret Randall

    for Rhoda Waller
    Yes we did march around somewhere and yes it was cold we shared our gloves because we had a pair between us and a New York City cop also shared his big gloves with me strange, he was there to keep (...)

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