the last murdered slave

John Sweet

too long since
the last murdered

too long since
the last assassinated

what i believe in
is the idea of peace
at any cost

even here in
this obvious room

my pictures of you
in a desk drawer
and a human skull on
the top shelf

sheets of paper
piled everywhere
all of them filled with

the distance to
the sun

the number of lives
this poem won't save

even the name of
your unborn child is
important here

even the name of
the one you lost

weapons are
only limited by the
hands that hold

From Retort Magazine