poetry by j matthew waters

wake up call

I wear an alarm clock
on my wrist

it tells me many things
such as where I’ve been
when I’m wide awake
or where I’m going
when fast asleep

it speaks to me in foreign sounds
a kind of language
I’ve come to understand over time
as if sequestered
inside a white room without
an escape route

I’ve nothing else to do
but to breathe & learn

sometimes the sound is muffled
by way of a pillow
and I become
the loneliest man in the world
until I toss & turn & awaken
all on my own

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

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