I saw his Facebook picture, met for chat,
And then the two of us said that was that :
Except the world can always change online.
(I knew that already from his Rosaline.)
I felt the Capulets and Montagues
Were always asking the two of us to choose.
And all we wanted was the sweet IM
To jolt us in our bed at 3 A.M.
Have you been bullied? That’s what it was like:
The dread of all of the comments on the wall,
The feeling that they’ll get you, one and all.
When he thought I was dead, it killed his soul.
I had to kill myself, and for his sake.
Now people can make comments: “Like. Dislike.”
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…