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The Last Dream of Plaquemines
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead,I lift my lids and all is born again.(I think I made you up inside my head)The stars go waltzing… More
Public Lives/Private Lives
LaborMy handwriting is rough, a prisoner’s scriptedletter, the cropped fields and your winter handsfolding into my pockets for lack of gloves.I could go in any direction in this field… More
Treatment Kind and Fair
D e c i d i n g t o B e a D o c t o r —C h o o s i n g a n… More
San Quentin, July 4th, 1975
I stabbed with my right fist, coming up to the imaginary point of my opponent’s chin. The “clack” of the cell doors being unlocked came closer. I bobbed, ducking… More
The Real Story: Literary Fact and Fiction
CHARLES MCGRATH: It seems fair to say that we’re living in an age of porosity; the traditional boundaries between fact and fiction have become permeable, with factual narratives borrowing techniques… More
Proust Regained
And now a translation of the opening passage composed for this occasion. Those of you who have tried to translate the first sentence will know that it is impossible.… More
Walker’s Requiem
I could see myself in the dark mahogany coffin. How I had gotten there and why was something I couldn't remember. I could hear the hum of an organ… More
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