poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “caravan”

hitching a ride out of the war zone

the television is too loud
and the radio plays softly
the ambient air
cooler than it needs to be

the clouds are low
puffy like pink elephants
roaming the skies
in search of a little drink
or a romp in a puddle of mud

all the noise from the inside
evaporates in a heartbeat
courtesy of a smart bomb
delivered from the far side

caravans become as common
as the latest virus
instinctively searching
for clear skies
like wolves or jackals
or hyenas would do

may two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

mass evacuations & caravans

the air became thinner than usual
as if it was ghosting right through me

last night a series of explosions
ripped through the city like a cat 5 tornado

for whatever reason I lost my sense of smell
back when we were crawling on highway 13

I’m reminded of the latest prophecy
that anything gas-powered will no longer work

come sunrise there was nothing but big sky
far from a metropolis that may or may not exist

march two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: