jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

tomorrow


it’s broken
you can’t fix it
my vision cannot
correct itself on a dime


I’ve been hitchhiking
for what seems
like a century
every morning
finding myself in line

they say there is a god
that can fix your
temporary ailments
even though I say
tomorrow is already here





january two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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