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It’s the human genius of reproducing not quite exactly.

He tried to regain that moment of grace, but there was no conjuring it.

This skinny blonde steps on the stage in a skimpy Balinese costume.

Our grandmothers were bakers and nurses, spies and traitors.

Colonel Hammer glares, willing us to attention. A few pilots sit up.

I thought how she must thrash with savage agility when she made love.

Your life is your own and then suddenly it belongs to someone else.

He shot a spear into a boom timber and pulled the boat to it.

Havana, Cuba, on the inevitable cusp of change. A photo gallery.

Having held down the past applying pressure to its sacrum . . .

Some people are so beautiful, they belong everywhere they go.

Hemingway’s Royal typewriter sat atop a volume of Who’s Who.

I remember the sun on the mountain like a trembling drop of lava. When the lasso dancers were done, they kicked away like wild colts.

You didn’t speak, your eyes lobbed incendiary shells over the harbor.

They found her where such girls are found. A Manhattan street.

I know what it means to be born in one life and meant for another.

He could not stop marveling at the velvet quality of
her skin.

The palm’s outline shimmied in the sunlight against the aqua curtain.

Any white man without a servant was presumed to be in need of help.

We were aiming for a complete transformation of society.

Claim to be Choctaw or Cherokee. Claim to be a princess too.

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

I can only say I am here searching solo for remnants of Seoul Drive

You’re certain that they’re harmless, benign as a flock of founding fathers.

I shouldn’t have to say why the confederate flag is a symbol of hate.

Children can be seen as worldly things, not as souls with broken mirrors.

They’re not, and it’s not, and we’re not, and only a god can save us.

What if white men became supremely good at making up for our past?

The ashes of a human being are not ash. The body burns into wood.