magdalena’s blues
rain on friday morning no
matter who you’re going to vote for,
no matter who you hate or
secretly want to fuck
dead dogs and laughing children
the desperate lives of all you
poets with nothing to say
gotta move beyond the simplicities of
christ as question or christ as answer
believe in this woman who leaves her
children with her mother,
drives to different town to score,
gets back home in time to
call in sick for work
consider the past as the future and
the future as a film running
backwards
dig up the bones of forsaken lovers
no point getting old but
good luck trying to stop it
good luck telling your friends
from your enemies in the
kingdom of oblivion
weapons and despair and celibate
priest with their hearts full of hate
with their teeth filed down to
points and they are nothing and
you are no one and we are
sitting on the back steps getting high
we are ravens flying up into
the dust-colored sky
John Sweet
John Sweet sends greetings from the rural wastelands of upstate NY. He is a firm believer in writing as catharsis, and in the continuous search for an unattainable and constantly evolving absolute truth. His latest poetry collections include HEATHEN TONGUE (2018 Kendra Steiner Editions) and A FLAG ON FIRE IS A SONG OF HOPE (2019 Scars Publications). Recent work has appeared in Dodging the Rain, Thirteen Myna Birds, Neologism and Deuce Coupe.
Tags:
Poetry