When I learned that the anarchist rapper Sole was having a kid, I reached out and asked if he wanted my child’s old crib. I confess: It was a ploy. I wanted to learn more of what Tim Holland was thinking these days.
He came over to the house to pick up the crib, and we spent two hours in my garden talking about music, politics, Roque Dalton’s revolutionary poetry and urban farming. My kid slid down a dirt pile, and the rapper’s dogs ran around the yard, yapping with mine.
