god

John Sweet

almost rain

almost silence

the pills that keep
the fear away

the fact of
working towards nothing

my hands scraped raw
and my house filled with ghosts
and my wife who phones to
say she's almost home

who understands the room
of empty chairs

has been there by herself
while the doctors performed
small violent miracles on the other side
of a locked door

while the sniper waited patiently
until the shot was perfect

the silence broken and
the man suddenly on the floor in a
pool of orange juice and blood

his wife screaming
hysterically

the clocks
all moving forward
without pause

From Silence in the House of Truths