left hand glides up and down wooden neck
fingertips pressing string combinations
right hand motioning in time
fingernails pretend to be little plastic pieces
moving multiple strands and
pinging selected wires
face contorted in body english
synchronized with amplified satisfaction
streaming from little black box
august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she was an unlucky kind of girl
and though she wasn’t sure
what that meant
she loved to say it nonetheless
born scorpio with pisces rising
she always wondered
why there wasn’t a thirteenth house
one in which she could run and
hide from a world spinning inwards
safely tucked inside her
mysteriously secretive mind
she only assumes a
peacekeeping role after
extinguishing all other options
august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
little paper moon inside
my watch pocket
keeping time like I never knew
changing from sliver
to full without being seen
brightening and fading
like a kiss from my little girl
wishing the world would
always stay brand new
august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I saw him the other day
at the butterfly cafe
and he was laughing
a hearty laugh
telling stories from the eighties
and nineties like there
was no tomorrow
his voice was never loud but
could easily be heard above the clitter
and clatter of the lunch hour crowd
he always left you wanting more
which is why of course
we could never go back
once learning he left this world
I’m sorry for him but not sad
and oftentimes I wonder
why he was so afraid
august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
from the book of revelation
the boss
held his possessions closely
encrypted them within seven seals
the pain he must feel
becomes real tears streaming
live down so many faces
pelted with insults his child
refuses to die
reaches out to a world
programmed to never understand
their own ransom
new generations give forth
a sense of promise
offering peace on earth (for the)
next thousand years
newly created criminals
and their invisible entourage
emerge as expected
floating like butterflies and
stinging like bees
august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
this woman I once knew always
spoke the truth
steered clear of all the haters
and did what she wanted to do
she enjoyed back rubs
and always said thank you
she once told me over chardonnay
how she was sick and tired of
nobody taking responsibility
once upon a time she acted
all whole and goody two-shoes
but that made her feel nervous
and less than virtuous
one rainy morning she told me
she had found that perfect place
kissed me goodbye
and fled on foot into the city
head stuck out
second story window
I waved and yelled for her to write
once she had gotten there
august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
world is broken in so many ways
though weapons are working
perfectly fine
precisely hitting
ordinary targets deemed
to be harboring
neither aspiration nor dream
we’ve heard this story retold
ad nauseam
seen it played out in theater
(time and again)
two-bit actors slaughtering
their lines as directed by
apocalyptic producers
feeding on senselessness
july two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
sadness used to show up
unannounced and we’d sit up
until sunrise drinking
whatever was left in the house
I kept telling myself the next time
he appeared out of nowhere
I wouldn’t let him in
but of course that didn’t happen
and he continued to pretend
to be my friend
I told him I was thinking about buying
a brand new puppy
a black one I said
so I could learn how to keep him at bay
and teach him to protect me from
monsters like him
july two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
running through fields with
raised nets and breathable lids
atop glass jars
we chase down dreams
and stow away
childhood memories
unaware one day our hidden
beauty will be unveiled
july two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
he shuffled the deck as quickly
as he talked
telling stories about kings and queens
and barbers in the castle
something about the three jacks
hanging out at the fire station
playing checkers with their pals
pick a card he said
proceeding to ramble on about the
price of milk and gasoline and
disposable razors
did you look at your card he asked
yeah I looked at my card I said
keeping the card face down I
slid it back into the deck
certain he didn’t see it
he shuffled the cards and shuffled
them again and continued to
shuffle the shit out of them
as he went on and on
babbling about how man never
really landed on the moon
how fairy tales used to scare him straight
and how the pope was really lucifer
having the time of his life
he splayed the deck across the table
and I could see my card but it was mostly
covered by the king of hearts
when I looked up he had stopped talking
and was just staring at me
expressionless
what’s wrong I asked him
nothing’s wrong with me he said
but I’d like to know how long
you’re planning on hiding your
misfortune behind the suicide king
july two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
born into a colorful world
you look to the sky for answers
blinking your wanton eyes and
hiding your smile below
wide brimmed hat
anxious to live for tomorrow
you rarely sleep at night
dreaming of the day your
prince charming finally
finds you outside the box
winter arrives on cue
changing you into that girl
nobody really knew
your radiant summer skin
fading in the evening light
years turn into forever
your lost thoughts seeking
a new kind of loneliness
your mind aging
gracefully like porcelain
july two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I do not like the trains
daddy
I do not like how they take
my friends away
those trains are not for people
daddy
they are for cows and pigs
destined for the slaughterhouse
I’ve seen the train stations
daddy
I watched through the fence
have witnessed the police tell my friends
they are going to a better place
they line them up like animals
daddy
day after day all summer long
stuffing them into windowless cars
I know the police are lying
daddy
please please please do not let them
put me on a train
june two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
solar winds introduce new
life into the galaxy
hurtling subatomic creatures on
out-of-control rocks
racing to find a place to crash
lucky enough to penetrate
outer atmospheres
they breakup and collaborate
as golfball-sized hail
strategically hitting safe houses
once accepted within they evolve
one thousand years
learning the culture and waiting
patiently to take over
a planet destined to be theirs
june two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she bought me a gun
just for fun
and in her closet it stayed
tucked away in her sock drawer for
weeks on end
for whatever reason
she never boxed or wrapped
or stuck it in a decorative bag
instead just tagged it with my initials
and birth date and a smiley face
sometimes I wonder
if I need such protection
I told the detective as his assistant
strapped me into the poly
june two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it rained all night
and while I slept sharks
swam in circles around my body
either protecting me from myself
or saving me for later
awakened by wind sweeping in
morning sunshine
I took to the kitchen
coffee maker abuzz
birds of the air outside my window
like chatty statuettes
swapping old stories
settling back into real-time solitude
I revisit casualties
both foreign and domestic
making headlines on print and
television and internet
their bodies dead or dying
my prayers hoping they find
doves soaring on the other side
unable to shake the current
course of events
I stare into my oversized cup
of morning petroleum
dorsal fins circling above the surface
daring me to find out the true
interpretation to my dream
june two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
these dreams go beyond make-believe
and into spaces without stars
where coldness goes unnoticed
and past lives become memoirs
as I lie asleep out at sea
you seem to disappear along the shore
consumed by ultraviolet rays
disguised as gently rolling waves
cradle rocking from side to side
foreign voices tell me not to cry
assuring me things will be all right
once understanding how it ends
june two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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