"in the south, in the delta, the songs are free and they rise up and take me with them. but i am not the south. i am the texas blues, brown-wool seat covers that soak up the root beer and leave a sticky stain. i am white and poor and hot and humid. i cannot make a fist now. i cannot make a fist so i listen to the band, and the band closes each finger down around the brass knuckle, the roll of quarters, and thumps the big speaker next to my ear as i lie pounding out the rhythm with my new fist on the floorboard of the car until my mother can come out of the house where she has gone to deliver the artwork. the artwork for the layout. the layout for the advertisement. the advertisement for the bank. the bank where there is no credit for a single woman. not for new tires. not for whitewalls. not for anything."

ugly ugly gOD so ugly, but based on a really beautiful book that i think everyone should read.
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