Erik Sweet


Well, Shall We Go?

That time at dusk when the ground opened up and swallowed the past
I had a really hard time letting go

We needed movement, motion, something tangible and fast

Enough esoteric roadblock action, lets move on this

So I wrote a book about it and the storms began

Not usual storms but decadent and uninspired storms, heavy hail
and floods for days

Backlash into the next century,
so unnecessary for mother nature to lay such a beat-down on us

My imagination was held captive for weeks in purgatorio while the world dried out
It was global rehab but pretty soon like Mayakovsky out and over the fence

I chewed gum for awhile and listened to some Algerian noise bands

A little wind brought forth a respite and the fables turned back on us, a
gross underwhelming, we had thought that love would help the movement

That love is all around

like Fairy tales gone amok with flavors that could last for days

Wrote Beckett once:
             "Well, shall we go?"

And he followed Joyce
And Proust met Joyce, Marcel huddled in a blanket for fear of cold and asthma

             "ESTRAGON: I hear something.              POZZO: Where?              VLADIMIR: It's the heart."

And I met all in a photo album in the University of Haberstadt library waiting for
my family reunion and for the snow to start falling after a month of Death Valley symptoms

And it is what it is

Love is all around, just stop being such a stopgap and stop to smell the coffee

The wait was unendurable
Weight that is indescribable
So I called to the Gods and found the right psalms in the record stacks

The promise of graying Atari cartridges in the foyer

Welcome home

And sooner or later family shows up and they take you for what you are
A group hug ensues and you realize that you can make it through any storm or dream

Welcome home

you can

lets go.