I Struggle

Barack Obama won the election for president last night. It’s now 7:25am on the 5th, I’ve been here at my job less than 10 minutes and I’ve just heard my first post election n***** joke. There are times (and this is one of them) when people are such abject failures – such unapologetic losers – that it actually weighs my heart down and causes me pain.

And, once again, I quote Garth Ennis:

“Why is it the so-called defenders of the white race are always the worst examples of it?”

I’ll be spending the rest of my day keeping my hatred in check.


Tim Hatch lives in a secret volcano headquarters somewhere in the South Pacific, where he controls the world economy and writes confessional poetry about his disappointing childhood.

His poetry has been published in MungBeing, East Jasmine Review, The Pacific Review, The Vehicle, Touch: The Journal Of Healing, Apeiron Review, and he is the recipient of the 2014 Felix Valdez Award.

He finds writing about himself in the third person to be an overtly seductive invitation to tell lies.

He once captured a French Eagle at Talavera.