I Don't Have A Copy Of My

I Kept The Fingers Of My Left Hand Crossed All The Time, While On My Right-hand Fingers I Counted Anything At All—steps To The Refrigerator, Seconds On The Clock, Words In A Sentence—to Keep My Head Occupied. The Counting Felt Like Something To Hang On To, As If Finding The Right Numbers Might Somehow Crack The Code On Whatever System Ran The Slippery Universe We Were Moving Through.

A Pool Game Mixes Ritual With Geometry.

I Find A Great Deal Of Comfort And Care In My Faith And Prayer. I'd Sooner Do Without Air Than Prayer.

Memoir Is Not An Act Of History But An Act Of Memory, Which Is Innately Corrupt.

Even The Best Of Us Are At Least Part-time Bastards.