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