pitching tent along little mill
on a friday evening
as if it were yesterday
from spring to fall
brown & rainbow trout
occasionally released
into coldwater stream
sometime after sunrise
morning menu
includes bacon & beer
& last night’s catch
two old friends unlikely
to meet again
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they did not come from royalty
these aliens
from the darkside
& though they thought
what shores they landed upon
they were dead wrong
they fled for reasons
other than their imaginary fears
bringing with them
advanced technologies
certain to change
the existing landscape
in the beginning
they struggled to survive
but more & more arrived
until their numbers
outnumbered all the natives
& immigrants combined
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
all I wanted to do was play baseball
but world wars got in the way
throwing fastballs & sliders
big fat curveballs exploding in the sky
the airwaves were full of danger
yankees overtaking bases
bearded men in kneehigh red socks
slaughtering the entire field
of course it’s justified by orthodoxy
IEDs & suicide squeezes
inside foxholes older men in uniforms
chew tobacco & flash signs
though they’re waving me in
instincts tell me I must be dead to right
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Many men go fishing all of their lives without
knowing that it is not fish they are after.
~ Henry David Thoreau
They call it a lake but it’s really
just a big pond
I was told it’s so shallow
you could walk across it
which left me thinking
maybe I’d give it a go in early
February before the thaw
A decade ago
city officials pronounced it was safe
to eat the fish caught there
but as for me
I’ll only catch & release
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
a girl is giving birth
sounds from her inner self
brand new & beautiful
like those of a songbird
she breathes like she was
taught to breathe
mending her own broken heart
so that others may live
charity knows no bounds
this she firmly believes
finding second chances
in the eyes of another
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
a bark woke me up
I lumbered down the stairs
half naked
and there was this cat
on the other side of the storm door
by the time the rising sun
tapped me on the shoulder
I recalled how the dog
chased the cat
to the dark side of the moon
as I was tying my shoes
I had no recollection
of the overnight rain storms
fairly certain I failed yet again
to attain REM sleep
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
complicating the situation
by pretending tomorrow doesn’t exist
that the eyes
when studied on a molecular level
reveals far more
than any absolute truth
at an early age
the children were taught
the fine art of voodoo doll making
experimenting with various
fabrics & stuffing & buttons
paying particular attention to the
details within the eye
there is possibility in effort
& craftsmanship in magic
a potent combination
reserved for those willing
to practice the art of sight
other than their own
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
1
some assembly required
is what the ushers
told the animals
as they escorted them
into the amphitheatre
seating the smaller ones
in the front rows
& going from there
2
the sky was all lit up
thanks to a couple greek gods
brightening the flora
that flourished
on the outer edges of the world
abundant stardust
keeping them well fed
3
this story’s been told before
how a man
removed the heart of another
offered it to the sky
[still beating]
& none of the animals
looked away
4
the skies opened
as if to say there is nothing
to look at
the show is over
be gone be gone
5
there was no place to go
& the rains wouldn’t stop
all the animals in the world
were left bewildered
wondering why man chose
to squander apparent intelligence
6
it was supposed to be
a day of rest
instead the oceans were on fire
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they busted the enemy
into bits & pieces
piling some into stacks
tossing others into bins
boy soldiers starting fires
in the alleyways & the woods
talking amongst themselves
how peace is a 60/40 proposition
cabinet makers started putting
out heart-shaped boxes
sold to the military at below cost
they say the casualties
have declined since the rising
of the blue moon
a pseudo cease-fire
a sleight of hand opening
& closing once colorful eyes
burial goers breaking out in song
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there’s a monster
feeding on the airwaves
sublimely consuming reflections
lazily drifting its way
they keep saying
don’t go there
keep your thoughts to yourself
or the monster will consume them
& pull you further in
in the airwaves there are roses
of every living colour
tempting you with their temporary beauty
while the monster
panting like a panther
pounces on your every lost thought
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it doesn’t take long
to move things around
trashing all the obvious objects
leaf-blowing the floor
from one corner to the next
one time two times three
lastly valeting the vehicles
out onto the street
the love van backs up
contents emptying themselves
into the garage
anything needing power plugged in
keyboards & guitars
drums & cymbals all assembled
neighborhood curiosos
beckoned from their comfort zones
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it was her birthday the other day
so I sent her some feathers
it wasn’t exactly an inside joke
but she was most appreciative
we were supposed to hang low
instead took a trip elsewhere
two tickets to nowhere
though we were far from alone
I kept having to make changes
turning feathers into stones
stones into double roses
with hardly a place to grow
there was water everywhere
inside this landlocked nation
cleansing all the feathers & stones
continually accumulating
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s been twenty-three years now
imagining the mice
stirring out back
once the fireball is nearly extinguished
everything changes once the cat
is let out of the bag
the great horned owl looking on
stealthily
contemplating who may stay
& who must go
it’s scarier in late october
than early may
but only by a fraction
there are many things buried
in & around this place
some of them stone cold dead
& others still quite alive
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I try to remember
the lost dreams from childhood
baseball & butterflies
how the lady in the shoe
in the kitchen
screamed at all her children
(but I was not one of them)
all of us pretending
knowing exactly
where we came from
it was the fifteenth
maybe fourteenth century
and mother was making mead
in the cellar
me as a toddler shadowing
her every move
quietly asking where on earth
I could have come from
and ever since
never asking again
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
those lines in the palms
of your hands
know everything
be careful who sees them
lest you become
exposed for all the world to see
past actions predicting
future events
by any ordinary reader
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
we’ve not decided who should stay
and who needs to go
there’s much politicking going on
in the backroom &
the alleyways
while deep inside
the singers & the dancers
relentlessly work their magic
the strategists were called away
hours ago just as the
local brewery rolled in
another dozen kegs
word has it nobody is really
calling the shots anymore
while white men in the map room
throw axes & hatchets at
larger than life bullseyes
may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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