"This is your Gary, where hands grab at homecoming:/brown soldiers, sizzling streets, airwaves thick from a Motor City."
Volver, Volver//These spaces still hold your treasures,these pieces y cosas/that I can no longer hold in my hand
"Each season she arrived, / steering her car through uncut grasses / against the wishes / of the imposing architect"
"a man stands, balancing, // one foot on one line and the other on another, touching the pulse / of two emergent powers"
"Yes, I have been here before / On the threshold of justice’s door / Half a century ago / In Selma, Oxford, / And Birmingham." [From "The St. Louis Anthology"]