The Peregrine Review


Little boy bones.

Crushed under the weight of hard-line masculine agenda;

An initiation,

A solemn rite,

A poison called elixir,

Told to smack your lips at the taste like iron,

From the blood of Christian warriors,

Chivalry turned violent, turned blind-

Your only mirror, a blade.

The death of generations of manhood in that cup, that elixir you’re forced to swallow.