New Poetry by John Sweet

the false prophet

held an empty frame up to the

sky said that’s it said that’s everything

and creeley was dead and the

house across the street

had burned to the ground

man i knew had christ locked in a

cage at the far edge of town

gave him bukowski’s bones to gnaw on

gave him the poisoned water

from lake superior

 

touched him but wasn’t cured

- John Sweet 2015

 

 

spontaneous benediction

 

these men in the room of maps,

lying naked on piles of money

these prayers that feed no one

these poems that mean nothing

 

that devour the truth and

shit out empty platitudes and hope,

of course, is not a drug,

but the children are all stoned

the astronauts are falling from

the sky like dreams turned to

fire and blood

catch what you can and make

your small desperate wishes

- John Sweet 2015

John Sweet is a believer in sunlight and the undying power of surrealism, opposed to all organized religion, and has no use for millionaire politicians who claim to have his best interests at heart. His most recent collection is THE CENTURY OF DREAMING MONSTERS (2014 Lummox Press).