What happens when you let an unsatisfactory present go on long enough? It becomes your entire history.

Love won't be tampered with, love won't go away. Push it to one side and it creeps to the other.

I don't pray. When I was young, I vowed I never would be caught begging God. If I want something I get it for myself. I go to church only to show the old hens they don't get me down.

I tried out the unfamiliar syllables. They fit. They cracked in my ears like a fist through ice.

We are conjured voiceless out of nothing and must return to an unknowing state. What happens in between is an uncontrolled dance, and what we ask for in love is no more than a momentary chance to get the steps right, to move in harmony until the music stops.

I think one of the most fertile, unexplored areas for poets and fiction writers is the world of science. I become overwhelmed by the science world.

It's impossible to write about Native life without humor-that's how people maintain sanity.