Archives :: John Sweet
until silence is a sound
Appeared in the 1999-2004 issue.
and this is the silence
we call the silence of days
and this is the sound of
each one being nailed to
its own simple cross
the sound of
vapor trails scarring
the face of the sky and then
the sound of the sky itself
like some always expanding scream
until there is only one giant
hum we call silence
do you understand?
any field you walk in
will contain both yourself
and your shadow and
any man you love will
love you only as the mother
of his children
and knowing this
you answer the phone anyway
and the voice is always the voice
of a woman you've never met
a sound like
a burning church
in an endless desert and it's
from these flames that you
hang your heart
it's in this house that
you pile your bones
room after bitter room until
the silence is a sound
so loud
it swallows everything
View bio information and additional poems published in Half Drunk Muse on the author's main archive page.
Copyright 1999-2008 John Sweet.