Now all I was, all I had ever been, when it came down to it, was a tenant.

Fathers and Sons

He will, no doubt, be out of this house soon, headed over to Montgomery.

Fire and Other Poems

We roasted mastodons. Designed skewers, ovens, steampits.

Five Poems

Elsewhere, perhaps here too, regimes stagger, a congress ends.

For the Love of the Game

Grass grows, birds fly, waves pound the sand. I beat people up.

Four Poems

The mechanism and its crank pull us forever closer, you and I.

Four Poems

Through the dark, we say, through the dark: but do we ever really know?

Four Poems

I want you enough to gnash you into a silence made from pieces of silver.

From A Red Cherry on a White-Tiled Floor

Like lions in cages, women like me dream . . . of freedom . . .

From Deluge

I bled. God didn’t want to hear about it. He said unclean and so it was.

From “A Poppy in My Hair”

At 35,000 feet, the center of heaven, in the deep Milky Way, we meet.

Girl in Red

Instead, she stares right at us, her shoulder half-naked in broad daylight.

Go Humbly

Grass Moon and Other Poems

You are home in your bed like a soft animal with really intense feelers.

Hand-Me-Down Halloween

The year we left the reservation a white boy gave me a trash bag.

Holy Defense and Other Poems

We were assigned straight to the lion’s muzzle, the Sardasht front.

Hometown Nocturne and Other Poems

What is greater: the distance between these bodies, or their need?

How I Became a Banker

When the thugs from the bank showed, up my father laughed.

I Escape from the Boers

I was free. The first step had been taken, and it was irrevocable.

I Want to Know Why

There’s something I saw at the race meeting I can’t figure out.

In’din Curse

May your wife remove her shirt and have an affair with a tornado.

It Is Better to Be Remembered

At nineteen I lived for three months as an earnest cocaine addict.

Jennifer Egan

I’ve wavered in confidence, but never on whether I was going to write.


Do we hunger after conflict as much as we hunger after justice?

Learning to Write

I came to computers while trying to run away from literature.

Learning Yiddish

I’m told that even during war, she took the time to put on lipstick.

Lightning Time

It’s wrong to say the lightning is pink is nothing other than to say it’s not.

Live Dangerously!

Live Dangerously! If you get hurt, the suffering will bring a new being.

Love among the Stacks

The library is inhabited by spirits that come out of the pages at night.

Margaret Atwood

You quickly find nothing interests people so much as themselves.