there must be something
in the rainwater
how else could you explain
the dumbing of
america
political distractions
overshadowing
deeper concerns
in the skies & seas
regional wars
and mass murders
as commonplace as NFL
passes and
baseball in October
fans in the stands
staring into the palms
of their hands
pretending
to be informed
as the storms rage on
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’m not pretending
to be anyone
except myself
which may or may
not change
from time to
time
some say
I’m some sort of
chameleon
depending on
the time of day
or week or month
or quarter
depending on how
the moon
shapes
my thoughts
I stopped reading
the obits
years ago
figure if there’s anyone
dead that I
should know about
somehow I’ll
find out
in due time
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
what’s bigger than the ego
—the ocean or the
waxing gibbous aglow
the whole wide world itself
where will it go
once separated from the mind
—to the bottom of the sea
or exiled to the moon
maybe buried in the garden
the body is sixty percent water
a puddle if you will
a black hole or a portal
—a mere trick of the mind
leaving the ego behind
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
yesterday exists
mccartney
sang about it
once upon a time
do you remember
how it used
to be—how
it’s not anything like
that anymore
instead it’s today
something new
something to embrace
or something to fear
depending
on the mood that
strikes you
when you awaken
attempting to remember
what it was
you did yesterday
such as giving witness
to the moonrise
how she spoke to you
saying look at me
can you detect the
difference—how I am
almost exactly the same
as yesterday
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I had been working on ways
to incorporate the em dash
in a meaningful way
but the longer I think about it
the more I realize
I should be working
on letting things come my way
more naturally
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the giver of life
is dying
I saw her in the garden
a black-eyed susan
chatting amongst friends
I told her to rest assured
she would
one day return
born of the forest
& worshiped
by flora & fauna
flourishing within like royalty
I thought she was thirsty
but it turned out to be me
so I asked her
to freeze me in the moment
but it was too late
the seeds
I had collected in my mind
were swept away
by the wind
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there was a lot of digging
through the night
cell phones as flashlights
grunts & snorts
& out-of-breath breathing
—somewhere the dead lay
in fact
they are everywhere
somewhere an extension ladder
was propped against
an oak tree
one where wild animals
awaken from their dreams
by the sounds of predators
a few random ghosts roaming about
studying the markers
fear doesn’t dwell anywhere near
—not of the dark
or full moons
or the mysteries within the trees
by the time dawn arrives
it’s as if nothing had ever happened
except for an occasional cry
or gusts of wind
rustling leaves
come mid-morning a procession
of headlights
roll in as planned
commandeered by the living
praising the dead
september two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I flip over the egg timer on the kitchen
counter and step away
before it runs out of sand
the place across the street loses its roof
most of the neighbors here
are victims of the enemy of the state
and there aren’t many of us left
I’ve been meaning to get the hell
out of dodge for a long time now
what keeps me here is anyone’s best guess
maybe I’m holding out for a miracle
all the while practicing the art of
turning the other cheek
september two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the wind carried us
to that enchanting place
we thought we were riding
on a magic carpet
but it was just an
ordinary automobile
one with fins or wings
and a wide open mouth
eating everything
until skidding to a halt
dropping us off
into another world
one with flippers &
joysticks & bells & whistles
clinks & clanks
sirens & dings & laughter
september two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
tell me why
the air is so stifling
suffocating my every breath
as I lay dying
for the third time
in as many nights
my heart at rest
and barely beating
tell me why
I keep awakening
with a sudden spasm
an invisible hand pushing
against the dead weight of a body
refusing to move
as if signaling
tonight is not the night
september two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the past is nothing but a memory
a story if you will
connected by way of stepping stones
to a place called now
a place where the future
is nothing but an idea
when living in the omnipresent
time doesn’t exist
instead truth becomes the only way
circling in cycles
and flowing like water
slipping through your fingers
september two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
in a shoebox on the upper shelf
of a walk-in closet
anything could be inside
baseball cards
currency & coin
matchbox cars
origami animals
a porcelain doll
lost to the imagination
they are like forgotten soldiers
whose only desire was world peace
to reach the unreachable
requires hooks
& ladders
and an unquestionable desire
to rewind the clock
releasing the contents in wild abandon
september two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it was a journey
through the pouring rain
speeding not as fast on the interstate
the stress of the body
the brain pulsating
like the wipers
going back & forth
how many times have I
made this trip
to my mother’s house
a place I knew by heart
one in which she wouldn’t allow
a stranger to clean
though near the end it was inevitable
she would unhappily
acquiesce
the sun refused to show itself
that day
or the two that followed
the rains off & on but a reminder
how fluid is the body
from start to finish
how eventually it will become
a body of water
like a puddle or a pond or the sea
september two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s going to be colder than it should be
the weatherman said
leaving me puzzled by the phrasing
it’s like saying Bob is higher than he should be
an observation most likely
obvious though probably ridiculous
september two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
sitting pretty
amongst the daisies
unassuming & accustomed
to the natural order of things
the little lady in red & black
patiently awaits
the rising sun
september two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there isn’t a test at the end
just a quickie sayonara
maybe a sign of the cross
by lady madonna herself
the clouds over the cemetery
dissipate in an instant
and for a very brief moment
we thought we all died
a few short blocks away
someone’s digging a hole
planting a forever tree
in somebody else’s honor
september two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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