They called him to the office
by way of intercom
interrupting English Literature
a Walt Whitman treatment
He packed up his gear
and walked out the door candidly
the class sitting in near silence
wondering who the victim might be
A wallflower in the back row
fidgeting in her desk chair
giggling secretly to herself
furtively waving sayonara
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
venetian blinds
only slightly open
like little squinty eyes
keeping sights & sounds
in & out of focus
letting in a little daylight
or a little nightlife
depending upon one’s
changing perspective
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
left brain isn’t dominant
but neither is the right
like jack & jill
or a couple of peas
they’re as thick as thieves
cautiously conniving
either acting out as planned
or [just for fun]
going off script
once conspiring to fake
their own death
[courtesy of
insistent ambiguity]
all systems went haywire
—rope not thick enough
the rickety stool
just one huge fiasco
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
A late summer night
small upstairs bedroom
green-eyed boy equipped
with flashlight
comic books
& transistor radio
hopping from one world
to the next
sublimely time traveling
by way of frequencies
of an alien kind
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I wanted to say I saw it
coming but didn’t want
to be called a liar
but the fact is
it’s all academic
considering I’m not
sitting next to anyone
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
in the valley
rare earth elements
remain untouched
—sacrificial lambs
like a flock of ghosts
roaming the countryside
shepherdless
& blindly
sidestepping
the next catastrophe
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
why he was on the precipice
to begin with
was anyone’s best guess
but given the current state of affairs
chances are nobody
would likely blame him
—but the outcome
now that’s another story
but most of vegas kept finding itself
playing the pass line
believing lady luck
was about to be resurrected
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
at midday
five sat at the table for six
and ate their meal
in silence
outside the wind
threw damp maple leaves
against the window
—a dreary yet somewhat
rhythmical rattling sound
in the galley kitchen
the help cried silently
forced to accept
the loss of their beloved
captain madam
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it was only a matter of time
when future
meets present
reinforcing the idea
that what’s seen nowadays
isn’t necessarily what you get
but what I don’t get
is how I became this blade runner
in my recurring dreams
chasing down one alter ego
after another
each one stamped with born-on
expiration dates
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I never considered myself a fixer
instead believed sheer
determination might bring
harmony & happiness
I remember that one year
when positive energy abounded
like a field of wildflowers
but those months passed by
like some homemade flipbook
and I soon found myself back inside
that little box of empty
without question happiness
always slays sadness
though the trick may have less
to do with fixing anything
and more with imagining
outside the box
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the uncertainty
& the mysterious
that never knowing
what might happen next
almost always superseding
outplaying the mundane
and the everyday routine
—how can you possibly
have one without the other
—and why does the former
almost always make you
what you are
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Wanting to do a little math
but I’d forgotten the year
I was forced to lower my shades
and ask a complete stranger
She said I looked familiar
but I lied and said
I wasn’t from around here
and repeated the question
Secured with the knowledge
I arrived at the conclusion
having counted backwards
by way of fingers & toes
I tipped my flea market fedora
and went about my business
fairly certain I’d remain invisible
for at least a few more days
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
For whatever reason
they shot the messenger
[yet again]
this time his dying words
proclaiming
he wasn’t the real deal
but merely a patsy
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
whatever identity
I may have had
has been stripped clean
by forces of my own witting
and I find myself
attempting to reinvent
the man I was meant to be
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
insanity is contagious
skipping whatever
generation it damn-
well pleases
I only wanted
to be with you
but somehow others
became involved
—and well
you just had to leave
through no fault
of your own
back on earth I keep
searching for that one
elusive wormhole
letting the detector tell me
where to dig next
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
She found me out back
sitting on the stoop
weeping
What’s wrong?
I composed myself
and looking down at the concrete
I shook my head saying
I don’t know
no sé no sé
How long have you been back here?
I wanted to say I’ve been back
here for years
laughing & crying on occasion
but for some reason
nobody ever caught me
Having not answered I heard her
change her stance by crossing
one foot behind the other
Very well—supper is ready if you’re hungry
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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