I’d smoke if I had ‘em
but I kicked that habit
some twenty years ago
I’m just happy I keep
a little weed stashed away
It seems to me
that one god has never
been this angry
or maybe I’m just being a bit selfish
knowing that they murdered
his only son in brutal fashion
back when everything must have been
a little less complicated
august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
straight line winds
is that what you call them
flattening everything in their wake
leaving me & everyone else
without a chance in hell
of making it home before midnight
august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the sun stayed behind
the clouds all day long
but the heat
the heat man
it seems that is all they
wanted to talk about
don’t go out
don’t go out they would say
there’s nothing out there for
anyone anymore
but the fact of the matter remains
they’re all lying
using every single reason
there is in the book
yeah times are changing
but they always do
this much we know
yeah times are changing
and so are you
sometimes one step
& sometimes
ten thousand steps at a time
august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the great experiment proved
to be nothing but a farce
so many years & so many lies
if you want to find the truth
forget about dwelling on the past
instead try looking inwards
with ever greater speed & frequency
history continues to be rewritten
the most recent far from reality
but rest assured eventually
things will be gotten right
unfortunately never in your lifetime
august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
afraid I might pass
I’ve decided I’m not looking
for an easy way out
do you remember
telephones with cords
receiver lying
sideways on the queen
me playing a few chords
on the classical
you singing half-heartedly
sounding just like carly
it was as if you were
in my parent’s bedroom
& I was pretending
to be ex-times my age
[repeatedly digressing
into limitless possibilities]
you always asking me
before hanging up
why can’t we be like the wind
august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
cleaning out the garage
on a hot summer’s day
dealing with near empty bags
of charcoal & oily rags
gasoline cans & a bale of hay
nearly out of sight & mind
breathe in & breathe out
it’s what you do all afternoon
deciding on what gets pitched
& what gets rearranged
all the while contemplating
that first cigarette break
august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the future was here the day I was born
been working at it ever since
just to keep in step
it doesn’t matter what part of the world
you find yourself
explosions may one day come out of
(the proverbial) nowhere
and suddenly you find yourself
back at the beginning
unable to explain to yourself
(or to anyone who may be listening)
how one major blast
can easily wipe out
multiple decades past
august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
we carved him out of an old cedar
all that remained that is
all eight feet tall of him
we kept his arms by his sides
& his chin slightly lifted
his abandoned eyes looking westward
forever waiting for the seven o’clock sun
as we worked together diligently
using chainsaws & assorted knives
the children scrambled feverishly
around his root-like feet
crafting creatures out of clay
after nightfall the squirrels & sparrows
rabbits & foxes & owls & porcupines
[just to name a few]
burned inside the oven of creation
the cedar stretching ever taller
toward a night sky that has no end
august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
It’s midnight in Rome
& nobody knows
what year it is
Writing by candlelight
has become popular of late
encrypted messages
sent all these centuries
the undeliverables
circulating in the periphery
It’s midnight in Rome
& a little girl is fast asleep
safely in her second story bedroom
her projected outer self
sitting at the window
receiving & translating
writing feverishly
by candlelight
august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s six-thirty local time
& I’ve exhausted
all my free passes
having encircled the globe
these past forty-eight hours
arriving back home
unceremoniously
& empty-handed
exactly what I was expecting
I can’t begin to say
but this time I had a feeling
something would be different
like happening upon
a door or a window
only I would be able to open
but no such egress
was in the offing
& now I’m back to the only reality
that I’ve ever known
planning on accumulating points
for more free passes
thinking next time
things will end differently
august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’ve seen this before
it’s what some call a repeat
déjà vu if you will
like a herd of elephants
lumbering across the sky
I’ve seen this before
magically recasted to the TV
runners on second & third
the next three batters
striking out looking
I’ve seen this before
rain falling like stars
washing out the elephants
and delaying the game
probably until next year
august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
red-winged blackbird
what could you possibly
want from defenseless me
& more importantly
what could I ever
possibly want from you
you protect your turf
like a madman with a gun
but believe me I want nothing
you have to offer
not from you or your beautifully
invisible family
as I press my pedals faster
through your 50-yard universe
I wonder how exhausting
your days must be
& how deeply in love you are
with what is rightfully yours
july two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there are faces on the mountains
put there by an alien race
long before the enlightenment
when men thought they were gods
and decided for themselves
who shall live & who shall die
the mountains are so much more
than a moveable force
and like all earthly things
will rise & fall & rise again
whether by natural phenomena
or extraordinary revolutions
july two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
somebody has to be right
that’s just the way it is
though the fact of the matter remains
most times it’s impossible
to determine who exactly
either the entire world owes me
an apology (formal or informal
it matters not]
or I’ve a lot of explaining to do
to so many of you
even when I admit a wrong & apologize
I’m reminded actions are more
meaningful than words
leaving me walking away
and muttering something
that may or may not be intelligible
july two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
hummingbirds come & go
I tell myself the sugar water
must still be good
imitating by way of blinking
I stay paralyzed in my chair
unable to replenish the nectar
even if I wanted to
I see them in the corner of my eye
and they in mine
neither of us questioning
how much more of the world
there is left to see
july two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
what have you been reading
is it something pleasurable
or purely informational
at what point does it become
the pursuit of understanding
like forgetting who you are
shifting gears by highlighting
underlining & circling
repeating & repeating after yourself
but what about the birds [you say]
& their relation to the earthworm
the latter’s connection to the soil
why are they just as intriguing
as say mountains & pyramids
flights beyond the gravitational pull
when listening supersedes reading
words tend to reinvent themselves
shaped differently than the last time
july two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 