cold wind down grey streets
or maybe something
less obvious

a song on the radio
fading to static

my son crying out
in the middle of the night

and what the times i've
yelled at him for no reason?

what about this dog chained to
a tree in front of an
empty house?

or consider sunlight on
vast empty spaces

imagine enough pills to make
you smile when i walk
into the room or
the sound the air makes when
you no longer talk to me

these factories made beautiful

this moment stretched out
indefinitely

no one screaming
and the war a distant memory
and my mouth pressed
against your flesh

the ceiling pulled back and
the slow flood of the sky

the song christ must have sung
when the spikes were
driven home

beyond words and enormous


� 2004 by John Sweet