adjusting to weather conditions
in between phases
I’m in a funk
like a derelict balloon
with no place to go
I’ve been collecting string
and shredding
old tees into strips
tying them together
as if commanded by an ego
greater than mine
4:20 in the morning
seems to be daybreak anymore
though I’m fully aware
it changes more or less
every 24 hours
there are raw eggs
in a red bowl
next to a notebook & pencil
on the counter
—center cut bacon
chilling in the crisper
as the pig squawks
and the chickens sweat
I begin channeling today’s
getaway
[on the notebook]
a black on white conveyance
counting on the wind
february two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
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