There Are Ways Of Being Abandoned Even

It's Impossible To Write About Native Life Without Humor-that's How People Maintain Sanity.

...which Causes Me To Wonder, My Own Purpose On So Many Days As Humble As The Spider's, What Is Beautiful That I Make? What Is Elegant? What Feeds The World?

Can You Stop Your Mother From Singing To You? Who Would Do Such A Thing?

I Want To Remember What Bullshit Looks Like When Weapons Of Mass Destruction Are Diagrammed Out And Whacko "intelligence" Is Delivered In An Ominous Way To Strike Fear Into People And Especially To Pull On The Idealism And Zeal Of The Young.

I Knew Each Person's Delusion, The Places Their Records Had Scratched, Where The Sounds Repeated.