measuring the distance
by john sweet

    it's here finally
    in the middle of a
    mercilessly hot august
    that i will dig
    my hole

    will curl up into a ball
    and turn my face away
    from the sun


    will leave this page
    sitting half-empty for
    five days


    will watch my hands
    fumble through all the
    humid grey hours

    through all of the
    empty chores that pull us
    from one day to
    the next

    the dishes
    the laundry
    the small mercies
    handed out to my wife
    and child


    it's here that
    i will admit all of my

    it's here that a man
    i've never met
    hangs himself


    the rest of my life
    is spent measuring the
    distance between

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