American Rights, with a Bullet
I’m exhausted. I’m exhausted from living at the intersection of Rage and Sadness and not being able to do anything about it.
Excerpt: My Kind of Corporal Punishment
The following is an excerpt from the book "Strippers, Guns, and The Holocaust Museum: OR: How I Survived My Time as a Chicago Public School Music Teacher"
There was no thunder, no glowing doorway, no mysterious wind blowing through the apartment, and no choir of angels politely alerting me that physics had submitted its resignation.
The deck simply felt heavier.