jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

summer of eighty-three


he had to go back home
back to chicago

I think he was taking the bus
maybe he hitchhiked
or maybe he had a ride

his name was Mike
he was one of the good guys
some things you just don’t forget

we lived in a hell hole
along with six or eight other guys
who did nothing but trash the place

on the morning of your departure
you passed on some tools to me
most still with me to this day





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

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