or these babies left behind in
burning villages or the ones found
in suitcases along the edge of
the highway
this girl on the hotel bed who
says get it out of me
her boyfriend
who does
who has no use for witches
no use for minor gods or
broken saints and the question is
always how to punish him
the taste in your mouth
is always blood
is always gasoline because
whatever bombs we’ve made will
have to be used
whichever women we’ve raped
will need to be butchered
faith is what we’ve invented
out of the need to be forgiven
– John Sweet