Image: Unsplash, downloaded https://unsplash.com/photos/y8NR1RGfZjg (23.5.2021.)
a stopped clock
wanted to be the one to
paint christ as a sleeping tiger and i
wanted to be the one to
prophesy his defeat
wanted to laugh when my mother
called with the news of my father’s
death, but i couldn’t get
enough air
couldn’t remember ever having
seen you in winter and
you were so fucking beautiful and
we were so goddamn high
were just a handful of
meaningless words carved across
the back of some anonymous
college lover
just HOPE AGAINST HOPE on
the stereo while the neighbors locked
their daughter in the closet
while the choices for a
brighter future all ran dry
About the Author: John Sweet sends greetings from the rural wastelands of upstate NY. 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).
