No Ghosts: A Triptych in Ten Fragments. {poetry}
Wars and genocides and revolutions to ensure that none of the children live to become adults, and then late afternoon and then early evening but no ghosts.
Browsing Tag:
John Sweet
My Last Five Years Spent Living in the Shadow of the Palace of Futility. {poetry}
25 years later and all of the ashes have been consumed, we have stayed hungry, we have grown old, have wasted our lives speaking of hope
Come What May, We Dance the Days Away. {poetry}
this like-minded fucker maybe
or even his father
dead now for 20 years and what he passed on was
the gift for self-hatred
False Comfort Among the Pale Grey Souls of the Martyred. {poetry}
Truth... a fault line to build your pale eggshell house on,
and now that I’ve begun to grow old
I can finally see that I was
never quite able to grow up.