. >> philip levine grew up in detroit during the great depression, the son of russian jewish immigrantshe worked in the auto plants, and resolved that he would speak for the people working in the factory. "and," he said, "sure enough, i've gone and done it." >> belle isle, 1949. we stripped in the first warm spring night and ran down into the detroit river to baptize ourselves in the brine of car parts, dead fish, stolen bicycles, melted snow. i remember going under hand in hand with a polish highschool girl i'd never seen before, and the cries our breath made caught at the same time on the cold, and rising through the layers of darkness into the final moonless atmosphere that was this world, the girl breaking the surface after me and swimming out on the starless waters towards the lights of jefferson ave. and the stacks of the old stove factory unwinking. turning at last to see no island at all but a perfect calm dark as far as there was sight, and then a light and another riding low out ahead to bring us home, ore boats maybe, or smokers walking alone. back panting to the gray coarse