Thursday Morning, 2:38 AM

By: Matthew Silkin | Features | March 3, 2019

I imagined I was the worst person
to ever live, worse than all the
dictators who ever thought they could
crush the souls of the people, worse even
than the ones who use the kindnesses of
everyday life for their own benefit, worse
even still worse, and yet

how can I justify
how can people not recoil at the mere notion
of my breath, of the plague of my pestilence
how can those who love me
how

COURTESY OF THE YU POETRY CLUB