I’ve been told it’s okay
to talk to yourself
as long as you’re not replying
reminding me of Springsteen
singing about
not looking into
the eyes of the sun
because oh Mamacita
that’s where the fun is
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’ve little control over poetry
which may or may not
be a good thing
the source of which
can be unreliably magical
or dreadfully out of mind
I cannot call upon poetry
nor summon it to appear
I can only hope
to lessen my heart rate
and wait for its presence
to overtake my soul
often when I go to the well
poetry is not present
leaving me wondering
how long must I wait
doodling [with ballpoint pen]
onto blank sheets of paper
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
stay away from him
is all they said
as if to say he is
not well
a vague warning
from a small town
without a purpose
other than to cast
shadows
where there are none
she came from the city
and found him
awkward & intriguing
though at times behind
the boathouse
never felt more alive
there are no
chronological orders
to follow in this
sordid affair
her presence somehow
disturbing time
their disappearance
to this day
unexplained
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
afraid of silence
we anticipate the next explosion
while some mine for any kind
of real or virtual metal
we are mining for peace
located one & two stories
beneath the streets
in such places one learns
to strategize carefully
and breathe shallowly
every sleepless night
but a simple reminder
never to forget
the art of reciprocation
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
out of nowhere a cat cries
and a squall comes to light
sudden hail & rainfall
winds sweeping away
the sweet sunshine
the whole town
drowned in alcohol
the news reporters unable
to get the story right
misunderstanding
the underlying premise
how the good graces would
have them flower again
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’m not interested
in long goodbyes
they’re much too messy
if you know what I mean
a quick break
isn’t that the ticket
see you later alligator
sayonara sucker
adios amiga
you get the gist of it
one minute you’re the life
of the party
the next shuffle-boarding
at the assisted living addition
adjacent to the castle
the queen herself coming
to visit every third tuesday
but you yes you
you’re too busy or maybe
dealing with you own
misremembering
leaving me in the conservatory
light on my feet
perhaps levitating
tugging but not plucking
the delicate petals
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it was the day after
our bones tattered & torn
knowing not if we were
dead of alive
overnight the crows
became nocturnal
as if the poles had reversed
after a century
of fluctuating
they had become
our field guide
and though we asked
they wouldn’t say if we were
dead or alive
time passed as if
in reverse
each lifeless town we reached
showed no sign of
blood or skin or bone
wildflowers grew by the roadside
we picked them
we put them to our noses
but to no avail
the crows said it was okay to eat them
and so we did
as we traveled further
back in time
the crows became
eerily quiet
in the dead of night
and we knew not if we were
dead or alive
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
an uninvited guest
how can there be such a thing
a girl of color no less
her face velvety & somewhere
between blue & violet
the color of radiance trapped
inside her eyes
as if she was born yesterday
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there’s a hole in the earth
will you fill it
will you create
something beautiful out of it
what if you filled it with seeds
what would they be
regular or feminized or auto-flower
would you plant
birch & oak
maple & pine
palm & beech
—how many trees will it take
to fill the void
will you live out your days there
cultivating & dreaming
turning the hole into an oasis
yourself into a god
will you find that death
is impossible there
once deeply rooted
down in the hole
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
listen up there’s
a new world order
brewing
in the kitchen
fm radio blaring
emergency
broadcast signal
everywhere you go
something’s
missing
a sock
a mitten
a cherished memory
taken away
by dream thieves
listen up
hut two three four
we’ve made it official
& we’re doing it in style
stumbling headlong
through the newly
constructed
trapdoor
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they arrived by boat
and once docked
the boat imploded
was it a staged event
or a sad accident
rumors circulating
the number of deaths
underreported due to
understaffing
the pandemic
the supply chain
you name it
those who made it
were no longer
themselves
(no longer boat people)
merely survivors
relearning how to live
(and let live)
on foreign soil
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
isn’t it always a matter of time
before the next big thing
whether cutting edge or horrific
the wait is far from long
isn’t it wild how a glorious idea
can be conjured in solitude
and distributed worldwide
by way of an invisible wire
isn’t it a crazy kind of love
that hits you smack in the face
when looking the other way
leaving you breathless
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there were only three of us
but we managed to make a sound
unlike any other birdsong
we hung out in alder trees
creek & trail fifty feet below
passing along the binoculars
spying on pretend prey
diving headlong & swooping
living & dying in a precise moment
as if in an endless dream
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
listening to rock on the internet
a continuous stream
of nostalgia mixed in between
modern marketing
the riffs & the screaming
chimpanzees banging on their bangos
dirty laundry coming out clean
by way of tide
the whole house shaking
when the decibels are cranked
as high as they can possibly go
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I see them all the time
flashbacks like flipbooks
some of them
are stick people
many of them dead
a name will appear out of
nowhere (or thin air)
like a rabbit out of a hat
I’m like a mad scientist
screaming Eureka
in this makeshift laboratory
what’s left loves to hold
a grudge against me
for things said or done
but especially for reasons
incomprehensible
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s late evening
& I’ve not yet turned
a page
a sheet of paper
blank or lined
a young male servant
or messenger
delivering bad news
by way of wise men
*
the dam is doomed to fail
or so the story goes
a flood of words deluging
on a sheet of ice
a great sea frozen
over time
is sure to thaw
sun falls further into the sea
the sea becoming
warmer
over generational time
*
for no apparent reason
someone who has never set sail
begins building an ark from scratch
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 