poetry by j matthew waters

the days I lived alone

I am trapped inside this house
a house without mirrors
all of them stolen
by mice & men

here I am left to own devices
setting traps
& replaying forty-fives
with the volume on high
as I attempt to wipe away
all the evidence
all the blood
from the bathroom
& the kitchen
and down below
where the furnace roars

I don’t really live here
it seems the mice
have taken over
a transitional situation
to say the least

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

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