politics even here
john sweet
YOU
where the moon
divides the
sky
nothing gentle or soft
a river
a bridge
this the season of swollen bodies
and in a farmhouse north of cayuga lake you pass the night coughing up blood into a
porcelain sink
moths like zealots
to the light you
radiate
and politics even here
which side of the bed and how tight to tie the knots
how long
to make the leash
always this need to distinguish between beauty and pain
