I wasn’t trained to shake it off
which may be why
my skin is inked in sin
Seeing people smile after
fucking up
what is that all about—
the devil or someone
just shaking it off
or perhaps something I can’t
wrap my head around
I keep looking
for enemies
but all I find are people
who look like me
especially the women
some of whom seemingly asking
haven’t we met before
april two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
do you know what I’m thinking
she asked me out of the blue
her voice as distinct
as I had remembered
in god knows how many years
her words were inside my head
as I sat outside a corner cafe
deviceless on a sunny morning
the traffic light but loud
pigeons plentiful & pecking away
I turned to face my right
& then my left & backwards
my hands on the top rail of the chair
fooling myself that she could be within earshot
as opposed to eternally lost
in a sea of consciousness
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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