Loss Recovery by John Sweet

a believer in nothing from
nothing, he is shot dead by
those he put his faith in

he is the sound of laughter

he is a feast for the crows

end of december and still no
snow, and once you get to the
top of echo hill you have
nowhere to go but down

and think about dali in
his bed of flames

think about gorky

set that fucker’s suicide to
a 4/4 beat and
i guarantee you a hit because,
at the end of the day,
everybody just wants to dance

at the end of the war,
everyone is ready for another

feels so good to kill, why
would you ever want
to stop?

john-sweet
john sweet, b 1968, still numbered among the living. A believer in writing as catharsis. an optimistic pessimist. Opposed to all organized religion and political parties. Avoids zealots and social media whenever possible. His latest collections include A NATION OF ASSHOLES W/ GUNS (2015 Scars Publications) and APPROXIMATE WILDERNESS (2016 Flutter Press). All pertinent facts about his life are buried somewhere in his writing.
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