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quiet song, early afternoonTo John Sweet's previous piece     meditation for an escaped motherTo John Sweet's next piece

on the occasion of atrocities committed in the name of freedom

these days when
i cannot escape

when i eat
the bones of my past
and still want more

when i cannot truly say
i love you
to my wife or son

and it's not a new thing
this choking on

it carries with it
the stench of the holocaust
and the invention of god
and i am hopeless against
these atrocities

i am watching the soldiers
rip open the bellies of
pregnant women

am digging graves for
all of
my own wasted hours

no one ever
really expected to find
beauty beneath the
light of such a weak
and dying sun

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