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If Vann kisses her, a mist will rise in her brain. A promise of oblivion.

He’s not the skinny hippie all the paintings make Him out to be.

The man said in a hard voice, “I wanna fuck you, little Indian girl.”

We’re fat! So what? They hadn’t yet tired of this chant, the play’s refrain.

We’d never had a cross word, but I’d never corrected him.

There is something on my mind rushing up as river in a locked car.

there is no place on this earth I can run from my own prejudice

While they stand in line Robin leans into his chest. They don't talk.

There isn’t a nice Jewish boy in sight—not that I’m looking for one.

I never actually existed. I didn’t know it at the time, but it’s clear as day.

I was opposed to the taking of human life. I was opposed to all war.

He begrudged how money poured through her hands like water.

The Nazis are training some of their storm-troopers here in America.

He never stopped reminding me that I was born in Harmony, Georgia.

won’t you celebrate with me that every day has tried to kill me

Without a working title, a poem could muddle meaning, confuse purpose.

Her cheek was like a plum about to burst and you had to close your eyes.