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.
& in the mornings sometimes awoke so cold —the wind in Iowa City was brutal— those days of doubt, those days of troubled land, that I did not want to get out of bed &
When he was small, I rented a little studio in a building on Ninety-Fifth Street so I could have a room of my own to write. The studio was the size of a bathroom.
After pulling a score from the dumpster behind Krogers I stroll through sliding doors with egg-caked hands. The greeter greets me as I pass. I scan the aisles like a surgeon studying the mint
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