In the yellowed milk of predawn sky, he makes us sprint until we glister with cold, sweaty gooseflesh. Press past beckoning wings of the
My sister rides a one-eyed horse. This is no allegory for the degradation of American romanticism. This is a humble beast left incomplete by
Did it fail because it didn’t come in first, didn’t reach the summit, didn’t score more, didn’t make the team? Because its opponent falsified