A late summer night
small upstairs bedroom
green-eyed boy equipped
with flashlight
comic books
& transistor radio
hopping from one world
to the next
sublimely time traveling
by way of frequencies
of an alien kind
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
you matter of factly
lost interest in reality
stopped reading the news
in order to stave off
impending insanity
alternative worlds abound
the trick is finding
the ones you want to
stay lost in
living on roots &
mushrooms & rainwater
falling from a violet sky
back in the real world
search parties
are on the lookout
for someone who looks
just like you
reportedly last seen
entering yeti territory
november two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
as far as I knew
everyone was asleep
except for me
and I can tell you
I was as quiet as a mouse
full moon shining through
casement window
I worked with pencil
on charcoal paper
sketching in
a perfect escape route
as the magical hour
drew nearer & nearer
my eyelids fluttered
[as if in REM mode]
a series of tunnels & ladders
leading me all the way back
to the beginning
november two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’ve heard he’s enjoying the zen now
relaxing & a regular on youtube tv
working on a list
—can you even begin to guess
vintage this & brand new that
something in store another delivered
anything worthy as a distraction
misdirecting or misleading
sorting out fact from fiction
—inevitably
coming to terms with the reality
of the great escape
january two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’ve been on holiday
for what seems
like nearly a decade
bypassing pandemics
and pandering politicians
—living in a bubble (as they say)
enjoying a life of leisure
my doctor says I’m gonna die
any day now
mainly because I neglected
those who need me most
whether third world children
or children of my own
how she found me
is a nugget of information
that will eventually find itself
on the information superhighway
—like a secret ingredient
to the finest dish
exposed for all to see
there’s a light at the end of the hall
I keep telling myself
I’m not going there
—even though I know the ride’s over
I turn the other way
diving headlong out the window
as if knowing exactly
what I’m doing
january two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
how far back can you go
it is possible to make it all the way
back inside the womb
spinning in slow motion
like a cosmonaut
conjuring all the possible ways
—to make it out
once finally let loose
into this godforsaken place
july two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 