what she needs is a spade
to rid herself of thistles
growing deep along the foundation
chopping them down with a sickle
certainly won’t do the trick
but I’m not gonna say a word
lest I be ridiculed
perhaps there’s nothing tragic
going on about the weeds
could it be that their flowers
are simply misunderstood
july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I found my teeth in the guest bathroom
inside an empty jar of vaseline
I called out to see if anyone was home
and was thrilled to see the cat
rubbing up against the hallway
smiling I tickled my ivories
with my tongue and pressed my bridge
tighter with my thumbs
opening the shade to one of the dormers
light flooded in and nearly
killed me
across the street an unmarked car
slowly came into focus
a man with a hat in the driver’s seat
smoking a cigarette
walking away I told myself
that house across the street is much
dirtier than mine
and I sat down on the edge of the bed
shivering
considering my next move
june two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
when a rabbit moved in next door
and started posting personal ads
about wanting to have kits
i just knew it was time to move on
i didn’t want to meet him
so i stayed inside
and instead spied
through various windows
up and down the split foyer
his mail order bride
arrived via yellow cab
and sauntered up the walk
leading to the front door
confetti raining down
from a second story dormer
it doesn’t take long
for the little ones to mature
once born into their
new home blind and naked
and helpless
and before you know it
babies are hopping everywhere
and not any backyard fence
will keep them at bay
years after getting the hell out of there
i heard it didn’t take much longer
before the entire neighborhood
evolved into a gangland
patrolled by killer bunnies
february two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Plants thrive incredibly
inside their shack.
Without money
education
opportunity
they defy logic.
Is it magic
or are the cultivators
blessed?
How does such a model
of poverty
get by with just botany?
They say it’s a matter
of relativity.
The neighbors
ashamed
of the eyesore
still marvel at their craft.
nineteen eighty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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