for my father I want to memorize this our time together — what we did without her there to tell me You wouldn't want this life you're not cut out for it — and me the child…

Do you mind if we cut the attack on the settlers, asked Sitting Bull. But that’s the center attraction, said Buffalo Bill. Everyone expects it. But it’s a lie, a gross misrepresentation, said Sitting Bull. I feel like I am endorsing a great fraud.

Sitting on the couch when we got cable television, on that first day. Pressing buttons that sounded like the slap that your attention span would take as you made your way through the twenty, thirty, forty channels. As you grew older, the amount of channel

. . . I just didn’t think to call the mortician from the phone outside the grocer’s store, how gauche that would have sounded to any passers-by, a call to a mortuary from outside a grocer’s store!

Should I believe you now? I said fuck you. I knew better but I said it. He kicked me some but I covered up, he didn’t get me bad as he thought. When he got tired, he took my doorkey off my ring. Said make me come back, and I’ll kill you. And he left.

I remember another one night stand in NYC with a girl named Marilyn. We’d met up at Bread Loaf Writer’s Conference in Vermont. It was the Summer of Love, and a number of us student writers were planning a trip out to San Francisco to participate in that f

It was the early 80's My students carried / guns.

I sense that I may have won a few hearts and minds with my stirring peroration. "Can I get anybody a Republican Party beer koozie to take home?"

They say, we have hangnails. I say, I have a bruised leg.

Every Monday you brought your Sunday finest to the bus stop...

Rains came again and wore away at their flesh, revealing bone as white and sharp as sharks’ teeth.

I miss Mother gentling the small of my back. She has forgotten me. Her little girl. Whose thumb she fussed over when a rose thorn scratched it and blood spilled like a secret. Whose smile she said was her morning sunshine, whose hug was incense. I yearn for her lips…

There was one girl from Ireland, with her thick Irish brogue, who came into my bedroom early on the morning before my final exam for my Master’s degree in the writing program at U.C Irvine. She knew I was so nervous about taking the exam that I hadn’t sle

Standing hard at the windowCold clouds move, slowBlue horizon in the distance—It's just a slice of blue.All this beautyI miss it in the bitterness.I'm consumed by the missingThe emptinessThe unfairnessAlways some unfairness cropping upand capturing joy.Glancing high…