Two poems by john sweet

excavation 1

came out of the dentist’s office
and i’d lost the poem, half
my mouth numb, the other half
filled with the taste of
stale metal

had the bill in my hand

less than a quarter tank of gas

fell to my knees at
the edge of the parking lot
and started scratching in the dirt
for words

found nothing but bones

found nothing but garbage

had things to say, but could
only kneel in the filth of
200 wasted years and spit out
blood

violence

chasing headlights down december
back roads, not yet 6:30 and
already full dark

half-moon and sleeping houses

this man with
a mouthful of poison

wants to show you how easy it is to
hurt you
then wants you to beg for more

absolute zero when the knife goes in

small wooden cross on the
living room wall

cop pulls the trigger and
the child is dead and how far do you
have to look to find someone
laughing?

for how much longer will we
allow ourselves to
be a nation of assholes?

been a long
fucking time already