stranded
john sweet

​
​and lifetimes of hatred &
misery and oceans of dust
the man who calls himself your
father found cold and
hopeless on some winter floor
children born addicted
born healthy then
left for dead in hotel dumpsters and
it’s a news story maybe but
not a part of any greater history
not a novel or a film or
a top 10 hit and not this poem
which is fine because
no one reads poetry anyway
no one dreams of the
ghost they will become although
it’s the only future any of
of us has and so just
fake the words
just fake the emotion
just close your eyes and let that
pain pour out like a
neverending ocean of blood