Tag Archives: writing

An Open Letter to the new “President-Elect”

19 Dec

Dear Donald,

Well, you did it. Congratulations.

You lied, cheated, bullied, swindled, and stole your way to the White House. Despite your utter lack of experience, empathy, decorum, and knowledge, you’re now the most powerful man on Earth. We tried everything we could to stop you, but it seems we failed. Come January, you’ll be in charge.

But if you think that now you’re safe, that now your legacy is assured, that now the world is in your hands with no opposition… you’re an even bigger fool than we ever thought.

We are still the millions of people who opposed you, and will oppose you.

We are still the people that you hurt, cheated, assaulted, and spit upon because of who we are, where we come from, who we love, and what we believe, and we will not forget.

We are many. We are strong.

We are all tired from the fight, but we will not rest.

We are the downtrodden, but we will not be trampled.

We are the quiet, but you will hear us roar.

We are the oppressed, but you will know our pain.

We are the poor, but you will know that we have riches you cannot comprehend.

We are the different, but in our combined diversity we will be stronger than you.

The office is yours, for now, but the country is not.

In ancient Rome, there were men who stood behind the Emperors and whispered the words “Memento mori” in their ears. It means “Remember, you will die.” No matter what you think of yourself, you are not a god. You are human, and despite all your money, power, fame, and sex, underneath you are as tenuous and fragile and small as all the rest of us. We will be that voice standing behind you and whispering “Memento mori”, until the day that all you’ve done catches up with you and you come crashing down. It may take weeks or months or years, but that day will come, and you will fall.

We will be watching you fall, but don’t expect us to be there to catch you when it happens.

For our future,

An American citizen


How to Succeed in Minimalist Poetry

25 Aug

Be brief.

Less (A Minimalist Poem)

25 Aug

You’re less

Than I remember


16 Dec


A terrible short story about terrible short stories, by BHS

It was a dark and stormy night.

            Protagonist fumed to himself as he stomped down the streets of the city of Setting, grasping his umbrella tightly. Didn’t the Author just have to start him off with the most cliché opening line in history? That alone was enough to put him in a bad mood… the first bad mood of his so-far very brief existence. His temperament did not improve as he further considered his position. Who was he, really? Where was Setting? Where did the umbrella come from? He didn’t know; he had only been created several sentences ago. All he had were his clothes, his raincoat, the umbrella, and some vague sense that there was a plot device coming up soon. Until then, he would just have to follow the Author’s direction. Realizing this did nothing to improve his mood.

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