poetry by j matthew waters


I took him out I did
the one with the rich man’s gold
gave him the gun & buried the booty

It don’t matter which way the winds blow
the landscape constantly changing
go ask any old Sasquatch

What else is new
besides being on the run again
rolled up maps in my quiver
treasures in the southern hemisphere

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

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