poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “paranoia”

in the line of fire

or so it seems these extreme times
call for a new way of thinking
conspiracy theories superseding
previous thought processes
causing your world to shrink
and your mind to expand
further than previously thought possible

it’s come to a point where rationality
is further from any reality
where every little fact of life
every tidbit of information
has somehow turned against you
and you find your back up against a wall
unlit cigarette sticking out of your face

april two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the invasion of invisible aliens

standing at the corner of 1st & 3rd
waiting for the light to turn green
fingers tumble down pockets
only to resurface empty-handed

unnoticed by the masses
newly born immigrants jaywalk
these inner city streets
crossing four lanes once occupied
by gas-powered vehicles

I’m told they’re everywhere
but mostly inside your head
emptying out your pockets like
some sort of arcane video game

I used to walk the streets at night
but it became too bright
making me feel like a second class citizen
like a moving target dodging
in and out of alleyways

february two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the house next door

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
considering my next move

june two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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