The Broken Promise: A Poem
I promised you, I know, I know—
I'd wash a gravel pile of clothes
Poetry
“If prose is a house, poetry is a man on fire running quite fast through it.”
—Anne Carson
The Gargoyle: A Poem
It's half-past two,
sunny as a shiny penny
rubbing pockets of the world.
The Going: A Poem
"The ceremony of innocence is drowned..."
The Orphan: A Poem
Mother, you are my dream scroll...
For You: A Poem
dear nobody, I have taken drugs to calm the pale pearl faced woman with red hair that lives inside me my sweet mania (you saw her briefly, fled from her open legs) I had to lure her with the glassy green globes of chloral hydrate, drape her in the dark mourning of depression and as …
Six Poems by John Sweet
words like black blood from the frozen ground: a psalm and twenty years later you still dream of your childhood house on fire you turn to me for all of the things i can no longer give you the names of streets or of old lovers or the reassuring weight of lies and everything …
A Woman is Like a Cow
Just before I reached puberty, my Maltese father told me, “A woman is like a cow, always with one eye opened and one eye closed.” And I wondered if he’d meant only my mother. Just before my wedding day, my father told me what he’d meant: “A woman always pretends she can’t see anything, but …