you often wonder
standing on the edge
looking past horizontal signposts
how any of this could possibly change
anytime in the near future
but you know better
often resorting to escaping the present
ingrained into believing
leaving your body is an experience
far from impossible
as you skip from one place to the next
nobody seems to notice
whether you are coming or going
— especially those
who thought they knew you best
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they entered my house unannounced
dapper in blue uniforms & purple berets
sporting steel-tipped boots & cotton-white gloves
—silver stars pinned to shirt pockets
pistols in holsters & papers in hand
they acted as if I wasn’t even here
the three of them moving in unison
methodically going from room to room
one taking photographs
another taking notes
the leader giving orders via hand signals
opening drawers & cabinets
an occasional cough & chortle
when they went upstairs
I stayed on the main floor
& when they never returned
I decided it was no longer safe to stay here
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’ve lost my place in line
after grapefruit went out of season
walking back to the car
I hear people asking
sir are you alright
nobody’s around
but back in the back alley
boys & young men
cast lots for rocks
march off to their next ruling
& brutal execution
[how I know such things
is nobody’s business]
it’s almost always about who
not when or where
or even how
torture is torture
whether concealed by a shroud
or orchestrated in broad daylight
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
invisible hands mend broken thought
sweeping what can’t be salvaged
into the recycling bin
roses now grow
in the ditches of abandoned roads
colorful vegetation
wild & plush
painting over what used to be
faraway atop dilapidated roofs
angels eat lemons
waiting on their orders
pointing at the darkening clouds
the names are transmitted via waves
one after the other
an ever-expanding virtual list
of those who may be saved
followed by all the others
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
where did the magic go
there must be mystics or chameleons
passing time underground
at times diligently at work
plucking ideas from upside down trees
leaves without color
toadstools without souls
garlic & turnips & parsnip
reinvention is impossible without
extended periods of unconsciousness
like alaskan brown bears do
awake
awake
it’s time for the good news
tell us the magic has returned
and is here to stay
tell us it is finally our turn
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
people used to live in Mechanicsville
but few would work there
how many people do you suppose
lived inside the city limits
shall I give you a hint
a clue
a factoid
what if I told you how many beds
were in Mechanicsville
would you believe me
would you even care
from Mechanicsville
there is a road that leads to the Interstate
mostly laid due south
with a zig & a zag in between
and one big-ass bend
what if I told you nobody lived there
that it was just an idea mechanics bank & trust mechanics public library mechanics auto body
I bet you could get any kind of engine
fixed there
in Mechanicsville
get your air conditioner reconditioned
your lawn mower tuned up
maybe even your teeth cleaned
and what of the new water tower
how long will the old one keep standing is it still in working order or simply going to rust
is there still a mayor
an elementary school principal
volunteer firefighters
—are they still such a thing
now that both bridges
are impassable
and most main street buildings [smoldering]
ushering in the morning light
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve
The yankee & rebel keep fighting
ignoring the call for the common good
dictating their own marching orders
Pigs in dresses sporting red lipstick
at the county fair things go haywire
the yankee & rebel keep fighting
Hit & runs & other baseball games
nobody’s safe on the streets —thugs
dictating their own marching orders
New fake news & misinformation
spread from the darker to lighter web
the yankee & rebel keep fighting
Acrobats & gymnasts feigning death
big bad bulldogs & fat feral cats
dictating their own marching orders
Back to the future & back again
playing the race or injustice card
the yankee & rebel keep fighting
dictating their own marching orders
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve
last night I heard volcanoes are erupting
on three continents
but I didn’t bother to google which ones
and then this morning I saw some geyser
is spewing god knows what into outer space
from one of jupiter’s moons
but I didn’t bother to read which one
back in my little neck of the woods
not much seems to be happening
but I suppose if I dig hard enough
I’d uncover all kinds of dirt
I really rather not know about
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve
it’s midnight in london
and I’m unsure where I stand
in this shrinking world
I’ve discovered
someone is alleging to be me
and according to elon musk
nothing much can be done about it
back in america
[where the fake me likely resides]
the extreme weather is derailing
the economy & democracy
—while here in my lower level flat
it plays havoc w/my nervous system
as I consume illegal substances
advertised to rewire my failing memory
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve
A world of light
of dreams & strange intimacy where music floats
and voices eventually follow
where pain & sorrow fade into the past and joy is ever new
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve
in america
natural born leaders have been replaced
by natural born killers
at a future date
historians may connect the dots
—the sublime correlation between the two
mapping the evolution from plymouth
to richmond
to the latest school shooting
students learning
all on their own
how the eradication of racism
is a moot point
as long as man & boy
continue to pursue the art of war
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve
I know it’s late
but I don’t want to go home
—I call from a payphone
to say I’m on my way
the front door light is on
collecting inquisitive insects
too numerous to count
today I could use my voice
to turn off that damn light
but back then things were fairly simple
except for killing myself
just to get inside
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve
the hit got through
another run scored
the boo birds came out
in full force
cageless & marching
to the concessions
from the jumbotron
[and for the third time]
they heard harry caray
singing his heart out
people swaying & pointing
toasting to the dude
some saying they thought
he was dead
it started as a day game
that never quite ended
the full moon high behind the clouds
street lights flickering
backup generators humming
keeping all hopes alive
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve
at the university
on the campus called pentacrest
there is a valley & a dale
on one side of the river
—and just like a mirror
on the opposite side as well
it was the eighties
when the economy was shit
[or so I learned in jessup hall]
all the doomsday scenarios
leaving a pleasant taste on my palate
I remember walking up the hill
what seemed steeper than 45 degrees
keeping my head down
hauling a backpack full of books
telling myself I’m hiking on flat terrain
I always thought the eyes of the faces
would watch me with scrutiny
as if I was some sort of transplant
but in reality I was merely one of them
somehow surviving under the microscope
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve
he was a number cruncher
hadn’t much time for cause & effect
[that is] until he started counting down the days
you see on theoretical paper
everything for him was black & white
—it’s where things added up with the help of
simple mathematics & determination
eventually becoming balanced
one way or the other
near the end the numbers went negative
underground so to speak
forcing him to change his ways
pursuing fractions of himself
inside newly discovered wormholes
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve
you can only hope to outlive it
the system of the clouds
designed to wear you down
with or without shadows
a woman with wings
swoops near the surface & accelerates
back into the sky
—most likely she is not alone
how far they’ve traveled
is a matter of speculation
it’s as if they’ve been here before
the way they know
the terrain
the way they call your name
it’s never too late to change
they seem to be saying
coaxing you out of the cave
insinuating it’s safe again
to see the light of day
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve
jdubqca 