shifting down to high speed
he pushes the pedals
down down down
feeling the tension inside
thighs and calves and IT bands
grimacing and racing
approaching the rail yard
the freight train slows to a crawl
the conductor waving
outside the window
the biker stretching out one hand
high into the air
yelling
thank you thank you thank you
august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they worked conspiracy hill
like well programmed robots
carrying handheld devices
and tagging certain grids
with various colored flags
teleporting data
back to mother
the hill had taken a pounding
from the cosmic bullets
raining from above
vaporizing the rebel forces
and forever altering the
surrounding mineral
composition
they had flattened this hill
before and fully intend
to mine it again
transporting the riches
through the ancient routes
terminating far inside
orion’s belt
august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she sits by the fire
surrounded by limestone
and dying wildflowers
holding herself in her arms
her eyes smiling at the dancing flames
of yesterday’s summer sun
august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I was in the garage fixing the radio
when charlie came in
cigarette and beer in hand
wearing wrangler blue jeans
and a sleeveless tee
what in the hell are you doing neighbor
he asked
I told him I was fixing the radio
(the one with the reddish-orange digital display
that usually hangs underneath the kitchen cabinet
the kind you have to use a pen or pencil
to advance the time of day)
he took a peek at me soldering the
red wire to the circuit board
was careful to blow his smoke
out toward the street
as I screwed the cover back on
he asked what in the hell I needed a
radio for this day and age
you know with the internet and pandora
or some such shit
to listen to the dead but of course
is how I answered
and I picked up my radio and excused myself
august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
in the dream
a dark cloud follows overhead
like a skeptical stray cat
neither threatening nor kind
unbiased and nearly lifeless
far beyond
stars form stellar pyramids
with eye-shaped apertures
blinking a visual morse code
only warlords understand
in the dream
martin luther king preaches
to a desperate generation
promising harmony and hope
where there is only despair
far beyond
star factories push the limits
within a universe pulling back
brushing aside dark clouds
and bringing change on earth
august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
ants are everywhere
and most of them are downright
industrious
then there’s the spiders
and snakes and whatever nature
wants to sally forth populating this place
ground squirrels moved in
last week
little sons a bitches
neighbor says he’s got a
groundhog
living up there
behind them bushes
wolves and foxes make for
scary noises
beyond the border trees at night
or maybe it’s just two cats without gloves
settling an old match
or better yet
an adolescent sasquatch
out looking for a snack
beneath all the commotion
subhumans thrive at
twenty-four seven bazaars
peddling flashlights and canteens
and cuban cigars
dark chocolate squares
and high-powered rifles
july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they sat around the fire pit
on a saturday
downing amber ale
and getting high on sticky weed
midsummer stories ensued
as evening turned into night
and off in the distance
a freight train chugged along the river
slightly shaking the ground
and slowly picking up speed
past the corn sweetener plant
bottles were raised
and toasts were made
to hobos and train hopping
followed by wild ass guesses
as to the whereabouts
of their long lost buddy
who so many years ago
chose the obscure lifestyle
of a punk rock anarchist
july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
he walks alone
because he has no place
to go
yet he knows
as long as he keeps moving
the world will never slow down
he smiles because
he was told it would keep warm his soul
and he figured
that would be a good thing
in case his heart went cold
remembering is what
he does best
not the yesterday kind of remembering
but the kind
where you go way back when
the kind
that makes you smile
and makes your heart reminisce
july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the headlines don’t concern me
unless I’m in them
or someone I know
and then I want to have some input
regarding the font type
and the font size
and all that jazz
I could just see myself
being that guy behind
the glass office saying
listen here I need a story
and I think I need it yesterday
so you better deliver
or else you’ll be buying
milk and bread with food stamps
next thing I know that dead-beat writer
is sticking one of those
spy gun slash ballpoint pens
underneath my chin
telling me he’s more than willing
to blast me all the way to the front page
for just a little notoriety
july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
soft strings stream from the
ceiling speakers
slightly drowning out whispers
floating throughout the
openness of this place
its reverberations caressing the
flame of a single candle
centered atop a corner table
casting a dim light on a
sea of lost thoughts
where two once sailed as one
july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I felt like stepping out
but didn’t want to drink alone
so I texted Tommy to give me a call
but my phone lay silent
goddamn son-of-a-bitch
I powered up my new HDTV
but nothing was on
so I turned it off
and checked my phone again
nada – nothing – zip
I paged through my contacts
and speed dialed Randy
then Billy and then Reggie G
but nobody picked up
I walked into the kitchen
and opened the refrigerator
but I had forgotten to replace
the lamp and couldn’t see shit
but I reached in anyway
june two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
your garden is all grown up
said the daughter
to the old man as they
sat in front of the fire pit
listening to the wood talk
she remembered way back when
there were stepping stones
throughout the garden
and she would jump from one stone
to the next like you would
playing hopscotch
the stones were still there
camouflaged beneath the jungle
barely noticeable amongst the greenery
blossoming a spectrum of colors
rainbows inspired to imitate
do you remember
when we put in the stepping stones
asked the old man
yes I do
answered the daughter
I was just thinking about that
june two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she smiled and told me
how much she loved me
her palm reaching out
to touch my cheek
I remember her touch
from way back when
and closed my eyes
as if it was yesterday
walking empty-handed
down the narrow lane
I really wasn’t sure
who was leaving who
june two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
sometimes I just cry myself to sleep
when I think about all the things
I’m gonna miss about this place
I told jesus
as we sat on the rocks
casting our lines out into the sea
neither of us worrying
whether or not there was fish to catch
june two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
There is nothing wrong
with my mind
nothing wrong with my body parts
or the way I go about my day
thinking about flowers
I’ve yet to come across
I can still put together a crossword puzzle
like a son of a bitch
but I choose not to
because there are so many more
important things yet to be done
Sometimes I’d rather sit here
and play online poker
while putting together words
I call poetry
and recite them back to myself
nodding and pretending
someone might like them
a half a world away
There is nothing wrong
with my mind
even though some days I wish there was
so I could just sit here
and daydream
and listen to my heart beat
may two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
The mad man works alone in lab
concocting something new
he stirs and mixes whilst he blabs
bidding the world adieu.
Realizing not what makes him tick
he wishes to destroy
his enemies he connives to trick
with elaborate decoys.
Alone in thought he laughs aloud
dreaming new creations
bent on destruction he avows
full annihilation.
The big bang theory he repeats
inside his little hole
his wicked mind he does defeat
with self-impaling blows!
may two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 