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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “mice”

30 Dec 2024
4 Comments

while I lay sleeping


there’s evidence a ghost
has taken up residence in my
studio apartment

for example my painting
temporarily named ‘sunrise over mars’
has mysteriously turned into
‘volcano under glass’
—the yellow oranges & apple reds
replaced with aqua green & neon pink

all of the needles in my sewing kit
have been turned into pins
and all of the iron-on patches
have been scissored into bear claws

the ‘morse code’ mice in the walls
suddenly started speaking broken english
mostly complaining about
some nondescript guest
commandeering their balls & chains
all the while I am fast asleep


december two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
01 Aug 2023

laboratory mouse


in the dream I had no hair
not on my head or arms
not on my legs or chin
or anywhere else
for that matter

it was as if I was a hairless albino
but I was anything but white
my eyes blue like a flame
my lips a liquid hot pink

could it have been that I was melting
left hanging above a candle
my body slowly becoming the wax
creeping down all sides
of the cylinder





august two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Animals, Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
01 May 2023
5 Comments

movie night


I could hear them in the kitchen
three little mice having just learned
how to make popcorn

I was rocking in the parlor
cleaning my gun & sharpening
my whittling knife
catching bits & pieces of their
unintelligible conversation

when the timer went off
I set down my block of wood
and proceeded to the kitchen
the smell of butter & salt & spilt beer
dominating my senses

cracking the basement door
all I heard were the opening credits
to walt disney’s cinderella





may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Animals, Poetry and tagged , , ,
28 May 2022

the days I lived alone


I am trapped inside this house
a house without mirrors
all of them stolen
by mice & men

here I am left to own devices
setting traps
& replaying forty-fives
with the volume on high
as I attempt to wipe away
all the evidence
all the blood
from the bathroom
& the kitchen
and down below
where the furnace roars

I don’t really live here
anymore
it seems the mice
have taken over
a transitional situation
to say the least





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

Posted in Animals, Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , | Leave a comment

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