For some of us, the horrors of war are a constant; they stay in our consciousness regardless of immediate circumstance. Upon reading the poems of John Sweet, one is instantly transported to and uglier time and place, a place marred by violence and psychopathy, a place where nothing good can grow. By showing us the nastiest aspects of humanity, John shows us just how good we really have it.
John has two chapbooks currently availible. Check them out at the Unlikely Stories bookstore, or drop him a line at firstname.lastname@example.org.
John's works here at Unlikely Stories are:
|poem in metamorphosis||second attempt with a fading hangover|
|swimming and drowning||camus|
|hiroshima and everything after||found poem, five years too late|
|moving towards zero||pilate|
|quiet song, early afternoon|
|on the occasion of atrocities committed in the name of freedom||meditation for an escaped mother|
|a small blessing||the body dissected, the cancer laid bare (early)|
|i am hoping to find myself numbered among the living||bloodbath smile|
|an obvious thing done without the apparition of christ||between beauty and pain|
|sister||the sun reflected|
|between words and the fear of words||the sweet smell of junkie housewives|
|writing poems for the bones of burning widows|