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Paperback
First published January 1, 2000
Nothing was as beautiful as Philadelphia, where everything was old and modern at the same time. Nothing was so fantastically loud, reverberating inside Isabel's head all week long as she idled behind the counter at Pier 1, not really there, not really anywhere as she waited, suspended in motion, to get back to Philadelphia. Isabel wore her hair in the new way all the time now. She stopped eating candy bars out of the basket. She smoked more cigarettes than ever. She began going to The Well not only on Saturdays and Sundays, but on Wednesday nights, too. Riding on the bus, she watched Philadelphia flow by: its few ornate buildings, its row houses, its peeling billboards flashing then disappearing as the bus curved through the low, hot, brick city. Once she saw a man running with a baby in his arms, dodging cars to get somewhere, frantic. That was a poem.