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 A FLAG ON FIRE IS A SONG OF HOPE (2019 Scars Publications) and A DEAD MAN, EITHER WAY (2020 Kung Fu Treachery Press).
magic mirror 1
this then is the path of dead men and all you can do is follow where it leads half a bridge which is just as useless as no bridge at all blame which we are all believers in more powerful than religion and more useful and when a wall grows big enough to block the way, we will bang our heads against it just like pollock just like christ we will ask empty questions while the nails are driven home and then the news of this man in california who runs away after stabbing an eight year-old girl to death and then the politicians who will use any atrocity to score points their syphilitic minds, their empty hearts and deaf ears, mouths stuffed full of shit, and what we need to understand is that anger is better than boredom but boredom beats despair starving children always lose to wealthy lobbyists there is beauty in this world if only you would gouge out your eyes and see
the poet lost in a room he’s known his entire life
this space between poems like some small unimportant death this fear of everything which is the only thing i have to offer three years now spent trying not to repeat my father's mistakes and the only thing i've managed to do is prove that i'm his son my hands know how to take they know how to lash out in anger anything can be made tolerable by calling it a gift
sonnet for the hated and the loved
soldier on the news w/ his face burned off with his scars as terrible as some half-remembered nightmare of kandinsky’s as beautiful as a song sung by children with razorblades in their eyes and when we lie on the couch in the last light of day and talk about the war we spit out the president’s name like the mouthful of shit that it is we consider the idea that oil is worth more than human life that power feeds only on itself we agree on who we’ll kill when our turn comes around