438 words
Rust Belt Hotel as Metaphor for America
It’s abandoned, it’s been abandoned for
About half a century now. Once it
Was impressive — vaulted ceilings, tall
Windows surrounded by a polished floor
Of marble, an art deco lobby . . . Bit
By bit, though, it all fell apart. Wall
1,308 words
“We must always possess the character of the true revolutionary. It is not the character that you observe in the little men of the old parties, blown hither and thither by every gust of convenience opinion, elated by a little success, downcast by a little failure, gossiping and chattering about the prospects of the next five minutes, jostling for place, but not so forward in service. Without loyalty, endurance, or staying power, such a character is the hallmark of financial democratic politics. (more…)
Michael Triegel, Deus Absconditus, 2013 (detail)
472 words
We Are Alone
for Chris Telford
We are alone. Nature, the Old Gods, our
Beloved Ancestors have left us far
Behind and far below. Get used to it,
Folks. We’re on our own. Deal with it. Commit
Yourself to this and to the folk that you’re
Part of, here and now. No more ancestors
But ones we ourselves might become before
We pass the bright torch we received unlit.
We are alone. (more…)
91 words 
Ninety per cent of men (and women) are both lazy and cowardly, and out of sheer moral and intellectual apathy they behave just as circumstances suggest.
—Savitri Devi
There is nothing quite so regrettable
As a life lived unchallenged by itself–
(more…)
375 words
Tony Blair with Corporal Gordon Pritchard (far right) of the Royal Scots Dragoons in Basra, Iraq. This photo was taken a month before Pritchard, a father of three, was killed in action.
Rupert Brooke’s “The Soldier,” Updated for Modern Use
Now that I’m dead, think only this of me:
At least one corner of an English field
will be forever England. There shall be
in that small plot a deeper plot concealed;
a plot which England fell for unaware: (more…)
501 words
You There to the Left of Me
Your world is rotten, but even more than
That, it’s hypocritical, it doesn’t
Consider its rottenness as rotten
Because it’s as willfully blind as it’s bent
(And by bent I meant crooked, and I meant
Corrupted, too). I hate everyone of
You, every so-called liberal thinker wont to
Repeat popular mantras like “One love”
(As if you wrote it yourself, as if you
Were original, as if it was true (more…)
1,300 words
I am not worried about my name being added to any blacklist, dox-list, out-list, or whatever other lists that exist out there with the express Leftist-liberal purpose of naming names, (more…)
840 words
White People Sonnet*
“My pale hands on her pale skin. We shattered
Cigarettes” . . . in the dusk, fingers shaking (more…)
Paul Nash, “We Are Making a New World,” 1918
523 words
November 24, 1916
Author’s Note:
A sestina written for all of our folk who were duped into being part of that first war to end all wars, that brother-killing-brother war, that beginning of our end.
1,637 words
Remnants of a Season: The Collected Poems of Robert N. Taylor
Edited by Joshua Buckley and Michael Moynihan
Waterbury, Vt./North Augusta, S.C.: Dominion/Ultra, 2016
Beauty given physical substance is a magical thing. Robert Taylor’s poetical retrospective, Remnants of a Season, is as magical as they come. (more…)
1,849 words
Paul Christensen’s novels, The Hungry Wolves of Van Diemen’s Land (2014), The Heretic Emperor (2015), and Reveries of the Dreamking (2016), form the Wolves of Joy trilogy — three novels that take place in the immediate past, the present, and the future in a world shaped by global-scaled factions and conspiracies, yet still containing glimpses of individual idealism and moments of hope. I’ve reviewed the first two here and here, and I still consider The Hungry Wolves of Van Diemen’s Land to be the number one essential novel for recommending to millennial nationalists (and potential nationalists). (more…)
