The friend who tells me I’m a selfish ass
is drunk, so maybe I should let it pass
before his acid eats out my insides,
the torture chamber where my self abides.
It is a clean and comfortable room
with open windows that dispel the gloom,
but there on my imaginary rack
I am my own tormenter, wearing black.
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE
A Critique of the New Right Misses Its Target
American conservatism has produced a bewildering number of factions over the years, and especially over the last…
Europe’s Fate Is America’s Business
"In a second Trump term,” said former national security advisor John Bolton to the Washington Post almost…
A Commitment to Remembrance (ft. Andrew Zwerneman)
In the latest installment of the ongoing interview series with contributing editor Mark Bauerlein, Andrew Zwerneman joins…
