poetry by j matthew waters

in the land of plastic immortals

there was this piece of land
where all the plastic aliens lived
exiled for no apparent crime
other than the color of their skin

they wore red & white or purple & black
or various shades of pink & brown
standing anywhere from three feet short
to ten feet tall
all of them speaking different dialects
of the same language
every single one of them misunderstood

beneath the surface
below all the various shades of plastic colors
there were no vital organs
no hearts to love
no lungs to breathe
no eyes to lock onto
no lips to kiss

without ever procreating
their numbers increased every time
the tide came in
the mortality rate on their piece of land
an absolute zero

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

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