Tryst Feature Poet John Sweet

building something darker in the ruins of the human cathedral

all of these letters
from all of these delicate poets
and i am sorry for all of them but
have nothing to give

jesus christ never cared
about any of us

victor jara is gone

hands broken
and body butchered
and i find myself in a nation
full of priests who would
rape my son

i find myself looking for something
more permanent than belief

and there is a man who tells me
that my words all feel
like attacks

who says i might possibly
be forgiven but will never be
numbered among the blessed

and there is
the queen of open wounds
who says that all she ever wanted
was to be loved

there is her child and the man
who beats her and
all of the ones who wait
their turn

who among them
will be chosen
to wear the face of god?



2002 John Sweet

Featured Poetry
a cold spring afternoon in the world of darker truths
the poet runs out of words
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)

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