was seeing a married woman,
which was the same as being alone

could still remember my father's face,
twelve years after his death,
and his voice, and his

got a letter from you on a
frozen saturday afternoon, and
you said come see me like it
was nothing

like there wasn't a country between us

like i wasn't afraid

John Sweet is alive and well in the wastelands of upstate New York. He describes himself as overeducated, underpaid and a believer in writing as catharsis. His recent poetry collections include HUMAN CATHEDRALS (ravenna press) and ASH WILDERNESS (dis-productions).