poetry by j matthew waters

buried alive

it’s springtime in this sad little
corner of the world
where lemon seeds struggle
to germinate
and once colorful tulips decide
this is not their year

it’s cold and wet outside
or so I’ve heard over the airwaves

it takes little effort not to look
outside these shaded windows
except of course when sirens scream by
followed by dogs barking
and gunshots going pop pop pop

there is no internet connection here anymore
I ripped it out of the wall weeks ago

ever since I’ve been fingerpainting by day
and rummaging through wine cellar by night
humming petty songs and determined
to finish off the cask of amontillado

april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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11 thoughts on “buried alive

  1. Shawna on said:

    You are so ridiculously talented.

    I love your brain.

  2. Awesome, John! It’s amazing how much we hear and see now with social media. Sometimes, I have to disengage from it all. 🙂 Happy weekend!

  3. Loved this one..and for some reason your closing stanza has me longing to re-read some Poe. 😉

  4. oh and “humming petty songs” leaves me with questions…what songs???

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