poetry by j matthew waters

bullets ripping through space

I’ve been called to see
in six dimensions
by who exactly
remains a mystery
for all I know could be jesus
or satan or mister john lennon

as bukowski would say
I was born into this
sorting out observations
percolating in the background
where so few of us
can or cannot see

dead or alive beware
the mockingbird
elvis or caesar once said
and steer clear of
heavily armed angels
guarding the perimeters

february two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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