When I finally went back to school in the fourth grade, after coming down with polio, my classmates were very welcoming, though I couldn't go outside and run around like them yet at recess or lunch time. That would come, just not right away. But it was th

Aquél que no ve brillar una escalera de Luz surgiendo de la piel de la tormenta, es que se esconde de miedo al pensarse inpermeable a su belleza...Mas luego lavará su rostro reflejandose en los charcos...o hará siembra de sus pasos al caminar por la hierba.De negro se viste…

She says he is not a real person. He says he doesn't understand. And that she should be with the dudes who want to be her boyfriend.

It takes twelve years for the hot water to run out and your skin has not even begun to prune.

“I’ve been standing across the street for fifteen minutes. I was walking by and saw you weren’t moving. So I watched—you didn’t move at all.”

I haven’t made the headlines yet. Maybe I never will. In a city like this, it probably takes more than this to get the helicopters in the air.

Having sex with her there made me feel like a child molester, I said. She said it made her excited.

"Haven't you ever had some little thing you would rather everyone just left you alone about? I don't like to have my picture taken. Please don't ask me again."

She walked, thighs flaming fire-cold, without complaining or grumbling or cursing the goddamn Midwestern winters the way the others did.

Maybe she thinks in Czech, dreams in German, pretends in English. Babylon is a beautiful place after all.

Tuesdays she worked afternoons at the bookstore, and he’d secretly go, buy a large order, sit in a corner with a newspaper. Fries covered in vinegar, veins of ketchup.

A salesman, a born salesman like my brother, is always and only involved in the Moment, and it is the sale itself that is at the heart of the moment, and my brother Harris was really at the top of his form as a salesman. It can probably best be said, th

A man and his wife are walking through a museum when the man sees a shield on the wall. Look at that! he says. Isn’t that remarkable? The two of them walk a little closer. What’s so remarkable about it? says his wife. Well, the workmanship! s

These fern-like weeds grow along the roads. “Watch this,” you say, bending down over a plant. The touch of your fingertip sets it recoiling, stunned–a fun, jungle trick you picked up somewhere along your way.

Of flowers there Are none In June No sun Upon my cheek The gentle breeze Stirs me not The smiles They cloud my vision Birds they Sing their songs But I hear Them not When tears Rain down My heaven.