It Was So Quiet, A

The Poetry, If You Will, Of Life Is Reduced To This Sort Of Dry, Scientific, You Know, It's The Worst Sort Of Précis Of Who We Are.

I Recognize Now That The Conditions That Indians Are Living In Are The Conditions That Poor People Everywhere Are Living In.

Last September 16th, I Was Walking In Downtown Seattle When This Pick-up Truck Pulls Up In Front Of Me. Guy Leans Out The Window And Yells, "go Back To Your Own Country," And I Was Laughing So Hard Because It Wasn't So Much A Hate Crime As A Crime Of Irony.

And Then I Realized That My Sister Was Trying To Live A Romance Novel. Man, That Takes Courage And Imagination. Well, It Also Took Some Degree Of Mental Illness, Too, But I Was Suddenly Happy For Her. And A Little Scared. Well, A Lot Scared.

These Are Things You Should Learn. Your Past Is A Skeleton Walking One Step Behind You; Your Future Is A Skeleton Walking One Step In Front Of You. Maybe You Don’t Wear A Watch, But Your Skeletons Do, And They Always Know What Time It Is. Now, These Skeletons Are Made Of Memories, Dreams, And Voices. And They Can Trap You In The In-between, Between Touching And Becoming. But They’re Not Necessarily Evil, Unless You Let Them Be.