off in the distance
fiery bodies pierce an
otherwise cold and dark night
sparking unnatural cries
inside the city
dormant firehouses
suddenly become mobile
spewing lights and noise
through once sleepy
narrow avenues
earthen black holes
welcome life and death
mixing fear with hope
and giving mystery
a brand new meaning
november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
visions arrive in feverish shapes
testing my sanity
in a darkness protected from a
cold november rain
flashes of restlessness appear
out of no where
reminding me of a dogged past
certain to hound me again
voiceless visitors with a certain
je ne sais quoi
talk me into believing
this night will never end
november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
he practices his complaints
before entering the store
knowing full well
he will leave unsatisfied
the return desk at his back
he mutters underneath his breath
a receipt and a little credit
tucked inside his fanny pack
on the way home he stops at
wendy’s for a bacon cheeseburger
then after a while reminds himself
he’s got changes to make
november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they told me to take the hush money
said they wanted me to forget
all about the aliens
I met at the tropicana
aliens I repeated
I thought they were mexicans
disguised as cubans
dropping into vegas
by way of area fifty-one
it’s a bundle they said
go ahead and count it if you like
but there’s fifty grand there
immediately I imagined
I’d never see them aliens again
then wondered
if the money was any good
november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I didn’t make the bed.
I meant to take the dog for a walk.
I forgot to take the garbage out.
When I went to the store to buy some milk
and bread I ended up spending
all my money on lottery tickets.
I was late for work again and they promptly
fired me.
Years went by and I forgot everyone’s birthday.
I couldn’t afford to pay the rent so out the door I went.
I found a new world living below the surface.
I lost my dog.
As I walked the sunken streets at night
I came to realize not even death wanted me.
november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
in pregnant fields
tractors with high beams
gobble up grain in the dark
turning golden ground into
piles of dirt
cereal-mobiles rumble
on gravel roads carved
through ever-swollen hills
fueled by ethanol and
kicking up dirt
rolling stock races
for the eastern seaboard
destined for distant lands
where little bluebirds
play in dirt
november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she left her stockings hanging
in the shower
leading me to believe
she would be back
but I knew she wouldn’t be back
there wasn’t much food
left in the house
but I didn’t feel much like
eating anyway
after a few days
I talked myself into believing
they were just a gift
so I tucked them away
somewhere she might find them
november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
we walked between the lake
and the rail yards
smoking cigarettes
and spitting on
century-old ties
wondering if the midnight train
will ever arrive on time
it was a year ago tonight marshall
died on these very tracks
attempting to escape
his own restlessness
his dream of starting a
new life
in st louis or kansas city or santa fe
seemingly interrupted
we made a fire
like we always do
and sat in a circle
our voices as quiet as
stones skipping on water
our karma just a little off kilter
one of us asking out loud
why there is no moonshine
november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they brought me onto stage
and explained to the
thousands of participants
seated in the open air theatre
exactly what it was
they were about to witness
young ones dressed in white
laid me down on the
table and calmed my fears
naturally deadening my body
before skilled surgeons
unveiled my open heart
november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’ve seen that tree die before
long after exploding with
shades of every living color
I’ve watched her time and again
come to life by the breath of a
thousand birds
She lives in my heart and
comforts my ailing mind
sharing her knowledge with a
world dying for light
november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there are certain things I’ll take to the grave
I said as I raised my half-filled glass
trying to figure out
if it was half full before
transferring the past down my throat
to the grave the patrons chanted
swallowing what remained of their
bottomless dreams
contented by the friendship of
lonely people
unbothered by next month’s bills
morning arrives without a demon in sight
the truth temporarily impaired
allowing me to get on with it
as they say
and forget all over again
those things going to the grave
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there is nothing sad in my song
it’s just that the purposefulness of it
is long gone
(I have since retired to another room)
alone I sit and bang on keys
meant to be played by a
musician high on weed
and improvising
we first discovered how the
establishment came to be
and then we destroyed them
brought them back to life with poetry
only the wretched understood
the professor did not show
up for work today so we taught
ourselves by sipping on danish wine
and reenacting a little hamlet
when the day is done don’t worry
about turning out the light
there’ll be another wave
of stark raving mad lunatics
to entertain your dying days
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
close your eyes and pretend
you are the forgotten son
pretend you have lived
a solitary life
and there is no place
you’ve never gone
I did as she said and found
myself on a deserted
divided highway
my overheated imagination
in my rearview
not an oasis in sight
after day turned into night
all living creatures
converged by land and air
giving guidance
and instilling wisdom
to the forgotten son
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she spoke with forked tongue
but I understood
every word she said
she said I had been dead
for three days
before resurrecting
my consciousness
back wandering the earth
I was sent searching
for a flower yet to be born
strolling beside a copse
instinctively I stopped
and squatted and became
mesmerizingly lost
as the glass petals
slowly unfolded into
another world
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there’s something
terribly wrong with me
it seems everyone knows
what it is but me
I ask the doctor
what the hell could it be
I don’t know he says
try talking to your friends
sleepless friends whisper
empty promises
and in the morning
those promises live on
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I wonder what lie inside
my lazy susan all these years
what one staple could it be
stashed away yet unafraid
Does she know I know she’s there
unseen and protected
by jars of peanut butter and
bags of tiny chocolate chips
Was it neglect or selfishness
that kept you in the dark
or was it simply my stupidity
not noticing how beautiful you are
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 