poetry by j matthew waters

waiting in the wings

there is nothing sad in my song
it’s just that the purposefulness of it
is long gone

(I have since retired to another room)

alone I sit and bang on keys
meant to be played by a
musician high on weed
and improvising

we first discovered how the
establishment came to be
and then we destroyed them
brought them back to life with poetry
only the wretched understood

the professor did not show
up for work today so we taught
ourselves by sipping on danish wine
and reenacting a little hamlet

when the day is done don’t worry
about turning out the light
there’ll be another wave
of stark raving mad lunatics
to entertain your dying days

october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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6 thoughts on “waiting in the wings

  1. Just wonderful. 🙂

  2. Lovely… Though I will probably be a stark raving lunatic on my death bed…

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