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i am hoping to find myself numbered among the livingTo John Sweet's previous piece     an obvious thing done without the apparition of christTo John Sweet's next piece

bloodbath smile

these softened edges
of an april afternoon

broken windows
boarded over

dead dogs pushed
out of sight

some sort of beauty
to be found in
the yellowing hearts of

in the twisted limbs of
cripples begging
for change

and i give you my
bloodbath smile when
you threaten to jump
and you tell me
how much you hate me

we end up fucking on
the bathroom floor
and calling it
a truce

and any song you sing
when you put the knife
between my ribs
will always be my

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