Sunday, January 14, 2018

day THREE HUNDRED and SIXTY

the new dark age:  a celebration


pretend you mean something to me,
                               or at least try to

fucking liar,
fucking bastard,
fucking whore and
                        yes
this is the litany muttered in bedrooms
filled with the reek of piss and fear

this is every priest that ever
raped a child
nailed to the corpse of his uncaring savior

do you see why
dead junkies don’t matter?

do you care that the baby
is set on fire?

of course not

we are dogs in heat being hung from
the girders of the main street bridge

we are pregnant mothers
raped and machine-gunned and
why would you act surprised?

look who you elected

look whose ass you lick

seems like a waste of time to
start whining
about the taste of shit now


--John Sweet

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