Potter’s Field

(for my sisters)

Standing here
in the glistening grass
a new morning is breaking
over this potter’s field*
Thoughts and words
flutter like ghostly birds
flying out of ancient trees

And I say to myself
It is unmarked
and well it should be-
because over space and time
naked screaming still penetrates
bloody pleading still stains
and your acidic semen still burns

And I say to myself
It is unmarked
and well it should be-
because it is enough
to know that you – a piece of
malignant evil –
are somewhere here
underneath my feet

And I say to myself
It is unmarked
and well it should be-
because anonymous
molestation from worms
isn’t enough justice
for you and your
childhood stealing ass

*Potter’s Field: a field of unmarked graves, so named because of the field Judas Iscariot was buried in.

Photo: © Julie Anderson All Rights Reserved


John Michael Antonio

John Michael Antonio is a freelance writer, photographer, poet and screenwriter. He claims his Midwestern roots while at the same time admitting his incurable and insatiable love and addiction for all things New York City. He has been the husband to his wife, the love of his life, for almost thirty years and is a father of three wonderful children. He is an unapologetic male feminist as well as a passionate lover of fashion, art, movies and music from all eras and genres. An endless dreamer, John Michael is also an avid historian, ex-punk rocker and a legendary Internet surfer who sleeps, on average, about four hours a day. His work has also been featured on The Good Men Project.

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