poetry by j matthew waters

a hired hand

stop looking out the window
what did you expect
it’s still february

the pizza joints were heating up
but you had better ideas

I noticed I aged another year
in about a week
there was nothing that could have
been done about it
having broken
the handheld mirror

you said you could fix me
in one hundred days

naturally I called your bluff

halfway through I was reported
to have been spotted
in the mall
at the library
skating on thin ice
reciting poetry at parlor city

all the while you kept flipping cards
a cigarette burning
in the ashtray
the seat across the table
freshly painted blue
& vacant

february two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Single Post Navigation

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: