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There’s a brother who sits over on North University. 
Looks like James Baldwin in a do-rag. Sings.
Is he homeless? People give him money

Maria and John lost Ned on a Saturday.

Like a flock of dispossessed 
in a city of converts, we found our way 
to the Shamrock where the bikers 
congregated to play pool. 

One Small Magazine’s Fight for the Indian Mind

In Iowa City, the restaurant 
where I worked on the weekend, 
I befriended another waitress, blond & blue-eyed, 

He lost his religion in church. Twelve years old and Nimi knew there was no God. His mother had left them by then, just like his father, though she had left for a better reason.

Why I thought I needed to rent a third-floor attic.
Why I thought one mattress on the floor, a desk, a vanity

Standing in the lobby of the state-of-the-art LEED-certified Sidwell Friends Upper School, staring at a giant tile mosaic of the word stewardship, Curtis Apple was ready for some bullshit.