And then one guy on his team yells, “You have to touch the bases, buddy! This is still America!” That is all it takes. For one guy on the other side to put country over party.
“It” does not even “come” in the traditional sense. These primal, atavistic qualities are with us all the time, lying dormant until the right situation coaxes them forth.
Every year, The Rumpus celebrates National Poetry Month by running new poems from poets we admire. We feature a different poet each day, and aim to illustrate the variety in voices and styles of poetry being written today.
If you are looking for an indie store in Chicago, the Chicago Review of Books has a roundup of local options. Gun nuts are so afraid of books, they’re taking…
Perhaps they are really saying: This will not happen to me. I will be prepared. And, in hoisting that hypothetical gun, they feel they are made safe from the appalling vulnerability of living.
I knew that just as the country was reverting, so was I. Every face now seemed a potential enemy and these were feelings I had not felt in almost twenty years.