I Can't Sleep. There Is

A Pretty Move, For The Love Of God.

I Was A Terrible History Student. They Taught Me History As If It Were A Visit To A Wax Museum Or To The Land Of The Dead. I Was Over Twenty Before I Discovered That The Past Was Neither Quiet Nor Mute.

I'm A Writer Obsessed With Remembering, With Remembering The Past Of America And Above All That Of Latin America, Intimate Land Condemned To Amnesia.

We Live In A World That Treats The Dead Better Than The Living. We, The Living Are Askers Of Questions And Givers Of Answers, And We Have Other Grave Defects Unpardonable By A System That Believes Death, Like Money, Improves People.

I Go About The World, Hand Outstretched, And In The Stadiums I Plead: 'a Pretty Move, For The Love Of God.' And When Good Soccer Happens, I Give Thanks For The Miracle And I Don't Give A Damn Which Team Or Country Performs It.