Late August, ‘93 by John Sweet

or i tell him he’s just a dying junkie in a
dying city and he laughs,
spits a mouthful of blood over the railing onto
the sidewalk three stories below, says
john you’ve always been the
biggest asshole i know

says i’ve fucked every woman you’ve
ever loved and none of it ever
meant anything

none of them ever gave a shit about
really being alive and then he
opens another beer

and then he
closes his eyes and smiles

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 BASTARD FAITH (2017 Scars Publications) and APPROXIMATE WILDERNESS (2016 Flutter Press). All pertinent facts about his life are buried somewhere in his writing. )