by John Sweet
grey skies & temperature dropping,
smell of cut grass, screams of crows
are you sorry you
believe in motion?
are you frightened by
the idea of death?
at some point you’re old enough to
realize that no one
really wants to hear the truth
wake up tired, sore, depressed
this will be the day the
roof caves in
the day the child’s body is found in
a shallow grave in mexico
in upstate new york
and each story generates its own
insufficient heat, of course,
and we cannot help but be
burned by the light of the sun
not every story is meant
to make you smile
not every moment needs to be
weighted down by this
sense of failure
the god you love the most
will always be the one
who bleeds you dry in the end
John Sweet is a believer in writing as catharsis. His poems have appeared in such venues as Strange Horizons and New Aesthetic. His latest collections include Bastard Faith (Scars Publications, 2017) and Heathen Tongue (Kendra Steiner Editions, 2018). You can visit his website by clicking here.