it’s not the first time you’ve chased the wind
having gone from one idea to the next
but then suddenly there is none
all you can hear are sirens
eventually winds die down
giving you plenty of time to pause
letting loose over a thousand dreams
turning sirens into your mother’s screams
april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
if they get away with murder
the city will ultimately burn down
the hunger striker lives in a bubble
broadcasted from the city center for all to see
like an eagle cam recording the brood
legal betting stands to make billions
regardless the duration
or the eventual outcome
of the extended televised reality
april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’ve jotted down a few words
looking to see if any of them
might make sense
where exactly do you find them
casual conversations
youtube videos
in-store purchasing
fm car radio
I keep saying I’m losing my mind
but nobody is listening
I’ve got so many words left
needing to be analyzed
I’d like to step into the future
just to see if it’s really there
and if I told you I don’t want to return
would you believe me
of course I must come back
but I’ve managed to smuggle
a few unknown words
along with some seeds
I was promised would keep me alive
for as long as I wanted to stay
april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
as it turns out we came here to suffer
or rather seek tranquility & forgiveness
learning each day to stay alive step by step
bit by bit pieces of ourselves leave us
physical or mental it matters not
you give them names as they drift away
how many times have I lost my way
only for you to rattle me back to life
back to that once vaguely familiar place
april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s 7:17 pm
and if I wanted to
I could find my own shadow
as for now
I’m content staying homebound
where I sit & wonder
where my shadow could be
in a perfect world
your shadow never leaves your side
omnipresent like god herself
who will one day
add yours to her collection
april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
let’s see
what haven’t we talked
about recently
that might make you
reposition yourself
on the settee
I carry out a tray
two cups & a pot of
earl grey tea
warm banana bread
& two thin slices of
lemon on the side
we talk about how
your dead mother
comes in & out of your life
promising [one of these days]
to leave behind
a dozen monster cookies
she knows how much
I love them
she goes on to say
sipping on her tea
& repositioning herself
on the settee
april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
how many times have you done
yourself in. two, three, five, eight.
if it’s the latter man oh man
be careful where you step.
are you still driving a car.
you might want to rethink that.
in fact you might want to start rethinking
a whole host of things, such as
what’s for supper and when is bedtime.
do you remember where you put your teeth,
your eyes, your ivory handled pistol.
and what about renewing your licenses:
fishing, driving, hand gun, voting.
how exactly are you
planning on doing all of that
in your forever current state of mind.
april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I was collecting rocks
outside the outer perimeter
humming along ‘californication’
and randomly selecting
which ones go in the satchel
and which ones get booted
I was on a solitary mission
assigned by a power
I imagined existed
and when I returned to base
with only the best samples
I was rewarded handsomely
april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the best of intentions
isn’t that what we say
when things go astray
when all we can do
is regret & retract
or perhaps request a do over
are you in fear of your life
for what you might say
the interpretation of your words
landing on the wrong side
of the tracks
far too many little matters
have suddenly become
major life & death cases
intolerance running rampant
in far too many places
preservations & sanctuaries
fighting to maintain the balance
march two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the bluebells were transplanted
long ago & they’ve been through
their ups & downs
you could say they were borrowed
and never returned
living & dying lo these many years
sometimes posing
other times shying away
as if not caring to be seen
march two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
when’s the last time you heard
‘nothing will ever be the same’
a model axiomatic phrase
if there ever was one
now we are all wondering
when in the hell you’ll be leaving
because as much as we wanted you
to be here in the first place
now we do not
we were all taught not to back down
but now we are at a crossroads
having finally come to understand
you are simply passing through
march two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she told me she felt sharp as a tack
I told her I felt the same way
hours since have gone by
and nothing has really changed
it was as if we were inside a bubble
and everything around us was beautiful
you know that the bubble is imaginary
she went on to say
and I told her that I know that it is
as I lie on my back
poking at it with my big toe
march two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’m not sure if I hear anything or not
lone sirens in the distance
somewhere a baby’s cry
a happy sparrow in the tina crab
I turn to look & there is nothing left
I’ve been down this road before
taking a right turn at the tee
plucking invisible clues along the way
a certain sound or maybe silence
triggering all sorts of memories
march two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I was poring over the google map
finger tracing past the sanctuary
and the prison
heading straight to bridge out road
we were seeing red
that’s for sure
going faster & longer than ever before
me gripping the wheel like a maniac
and you relaxed
in the passenger seat
drawing on a one-twenty cigarette
the hand-cranked window rolled down
march two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s electrical
the way the whole world lights up
that is until it does not
protestors with signs
walk the streets at night
chanting the world is ending
chanting the end is near
some of them feel cheated
others vindicated
a small minority honored
to be included in the end times
some of them wondering
if it will be like the snap of a finger
or a slow & painful death
march two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
do not be afraid of returning
if that is what you want to do
snapping fingers & singing
hallelujah baby hallelujah
there is joyousness
in the physical & the beyond
a mysterious balance of
mind memory & cosmic fantasy
exclusively brought to you
via the next best artificial intelligence
march two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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