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JOHN SWEET

John Sweet has been writing for 20 years. His recent work has appeared in Message of the Muse, Underground Voices, My Favorite Bullet among others. A semi-recent chapbook, FAMINE, is available from www.leafpresss.ca. 



BONE BY BONE

this house where a man is
the father
of his grandchildren

where he beats his daughter
to death
then disappears into the woods

is never seen again

and so where do you end the poem
and why was it even begun?

which child is the one who
finds the body?

how many of them are
able to move forward when
the truth is finally told?

i used to think i was a
good enough person to care


FINAL THOUGHTS BEFORE A NEW YEAR'S PARTY

sirens on the
last day of the year

christmas lights on the house
across the street set
against the heavy purple
weight of the evening sky
and nothing else

you can call it hope or
you can call it hopelessness

you can speak of the past
or turn away from it

something burns
either way

something else smolders
and threatens 
to catch

we are all too fragile
to have come
this far unscarred


POETRY AS DISEASE

on some days
you bring up the ideas
like vomit

you read a story in the paper
about a forgotten friend shot dead
by the police
eight hundred miles away

you try to purge yourself
of hate
but it cannot be done

the door is kicked down
too late to save the baby

no one tries to stop
the jumper

and there are men in this world
attempting to measure the distance
between religion and reality
and there are men content with
destroying everything they can

there is bitter sunlight on the
last day of the year

a storm approaching
from the west
and my wife holding out her
empty hands

my father's ghost standing
in an empty room

his last words to me
forgotten but
still suspended somewhere
in time


THE FUTURE IN NO UNCERTAIN TERMS

thirty four years old
which amounts to
three thousand poems written
in the last decade
give or take

bukowski's death
and then cobain's and then
your father's

candles in the windows of
sleeping houses

bones in the hands of
all the lovers you've ever
walked out on

stranger's names
falling from their lips and
who was it exactly that
taught you to hate
yourself?

who is it that will
teach your children?

do you understand why
it matters?

 

 

Copyright © John Sweet