jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “cowboy”

that’s how the money men liked it


back in the day I used to hang
out with Clint
back when we got involved
with those spaghetti westerns

there was hardly ever any
high drama on the set
seasoned cowboys rehearsing
their lines and showcasing
well worn snakeskin boots
spitting tobacco on spiders
and squinting into the sun

I mostly sat in a high chair
fans blowing on my face
my voice occasionally
barking out instructions
but for the most part things
played out on their own



july two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

cowboy country church


they whooped and hollered
every time the preacher said amen
their guns at their side
fully loaded
anxious to pull them
out of their holsters

whoa my wayward boys
the preacher bemoaned
thou shalt not keep thy fingers on
thy handles
and take hold the truth
within the good book instead

the cowboys coughed
and held their hands together
fingers twitching and praying
for the preacher
to give them good reason
not to raise the roof



march two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

rocket man


there’s something about the color red
that makes everything go so fast
as fast as jack rabbits
launched into space
using supersonic wrist rockets

red rockets launch into orbit
from the back yard
blasted by homemade boosters
consigned to corral space junk
circling the planet
for what seems like a millennium

old-time rocket man rocks
on the front porch
cloaked in his red suit
and plucking his guitar
reminiscing outlandishly
about space cowboys




september two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

The Cow Whisperers


A team of urban gauchos
surround a wandering cow
on a colorful street in Delhi
the sacred animal managing
to snarl traffic for over an hour

The arrival of city-hired cowboys
with their oversized truck
and ropes and bells
bring applause and protests
by the neighboring swarm
of residents and tourists

Calls of instructions compete
with the constant honking of horns
some warning the cowhands
not to harm the beast
while others suggest transporting her
to the nearest butcher shop

Eventually the cow catchers
convince their newfound friend
to mosey up the plank
and into the truck bed
casually whispering into her ear
the grass is much greener
outside the city




october, two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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