poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “handgun”

killing in the name of

handguns are made for killing
where do you keep yours
in a false ceiling
a kitchen drawer
under the mattress
or simply holstered
in the back of your blue jeans

it’s cold outside
but then again it’s january
and nobody without a dog
can be seen out walking

but to a mile west
down at the park in the city center
crime tape & body chalk
seem to be the talk of the town
man-made lights flashing flamboyantly
the breath of the living
visibly filling the dead air

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

rock & roll fatigue

my watch buzzes at 7 pm
a yoga time reminder
I quickly dismiss it
a subtle reflex
the song on the google thing
making me think about
the handgun
I hid in the basement
years ago

it takes two efforts
to make the damn thing
the old song segues
into a new one
I find myself singing along
[inside my head]
purposely forgetting
the hidden key upstairs

november two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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