The sunlight today
as sweet as poison
the refracted shafts of clouds
burns holes inmy retinas
i refuse to be blind
and i refused to be tamed
purged in a shifting milieu
of dandelion fire and blue stratus
my poems are a poor attempt at
food for starving dogs
shreds of gray flesh clinging to rusty bones
hard to swallow, harder still to keep down
what finally matters has nothing to do with
the skinny fingers of a dying planet
but rather the recluse dreams of a pure heart
dripping crimson upon white penitent flowers
-John Sweet and Gary Jurechka
1998
(Note:This piece is a collaboration between both authors listed)
