Tryst Feature Poet John Sweet

the poet runs out of words

this is the
room

the poet
run out of words
the carpet worn and
stained

and art is picasso

is hemingway is
dali

cold and dead
and still the wars
continue

meaningless
with the bodies laid
end to end in the
broken glass

mothers children dogs
and whores

and the poet watches
the empty street
for inspiration

waits for the
unexplainable pain
in his left wrist
to subside

wonders
if lorca thought
his blood was
actually being
spilled for
the good of
anyone

2002 John Sweet


Featured Poetry
number 29, 1950, second attempt
the collapse of the human cathedral: a premonition
to starve in a house we call home
a footnote to the season of rust
poem as a noose
stealing the title to atwood's notes towards a poem that
can never be written

the body dissected and the cancer laid bare, (later)
building something darker in the ruins of the human cathedral
a cold spring afternoon in the world of darker truths

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