poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “nostalgia”

reworking old equations

we got a little cash
three-fifths of jack daniels
and a six pack of warm fat tire

we talk about the easy days
at the kitchen counter
dissing the left & right & mainstream
disclosing our opinions
aren’t necessarily our own

on the counter sit two boxes
one made of cardboard
the other one real pine
first one containing
a handful of colombians
the other filled with irregularly-
shaped caramel squares
wrapped inside wax paper

it was easier back in the day
discussing ‘girls in their summer
dresses’ and critiquing ‘hills like
white elephants’ in a nearby tavern
admitting how grand it would be
to one day write something original

ice cubes and rock glasses aplenty
[figuratively within arms reach]
we redirect our thoughts
figuring out how to divvy up the entire lot
before hailing an uber
back to campus town

july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

yesterday’s sunshine

you store it in virtual bottles
stashed away in far away places
sealed tight and out of sight

you inspire to relive the bottling
hidden from everyday reality
filled with genuine creativity
and dying to be retold

reopening yesterday’s sunshine
is as dangerous as blackbirds
sulking in the shadows
calling forth the ghost of cruelty
to usher in new beauty

february two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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