poetry by j matthew waters

from Rust to ruin

by November the eye of the storm
would have grown into two

no longer a Cyclops
the monster continually evolving
like any other living thing
to the point it becomes

some say Mass Destruction
is just what the world needs

a thinning of the crowd so to speak

crash & burn & reseed
earthbound Meteors
coming home to roost
every thousand millennium

the Tin Man seems to know
exactly what’s happening
heartless but not stupid
standing perfectly petrified
deep inside the rainforest

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

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