poetry by j matthew waters

exorcising external conflicts by fire

it’s late august & something
is very very wrong

nobody can put their finger on it
but then again
nobody really tries
instead it’s finger pointing
and a bunch of global
[counterproductive] exercises

breakfast is dinner
won’t you come & join me
bacon & tomatoes & farm fresh eggs
yes you heard me right
anyone near or far
I’m out there ringing the bell
the cook’s in the kitchen
bats stirring in the attic

come in come in and take
your feet off at the door
there’s no surveillance here
no propaganda
no weapons
no contraband
only open air & open ideas
inside this roofless abode
where the rains fall & the grass grows
where the truth is acceptance
& lies are burned
down to the ground

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

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