ain’t no one getting out of this life alive by John Sweet


in the season of knotted rope,
we are all waiting to hang

isn’t this what we’re talking about,
no matter what it is we’re
actually talking about?

gorky and adamson and then your
grandfather, and at what point do the
rest of us stop calling ourselves

at what moment do we
accept our mortality?

grow up and grow older and
then you just grow old

hammer dull nails into the
hearts of ex-lovers and then
tell them to stop crying

we all need to accept the futility
of heroes, of martyrs,
of necessary wars

everyone you love becomes
a victim, no apologies

every house you call your own
is proven to be a lie, and
what i’m sick of here is the
relentless grey light of winter

the jagged edges of the sky

the absence of your warmth

these words a love song,
unsummoned and without warning


©2019 John Sweet




John Sweet, b. 1968 and still numbered among the living, sends greetings from the rural wastelands of upstate NY. He is a firm believer in writing as catharsis, and in the continuous search for an unattainable and constantly evolving absolute truth. His latest poetry collections include HEATHEN TONGUE (2018 Kendra Steiner Editions) A BASTARD CHILD IN THE KINGDOM OF NIL (2018 Analog Submission Press) and BASTARD FAITH (2017 Scars Publications). All pertinent facts about his writing are buried in his life.


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