I told him not to touch my stuff
but he did anyway
—a commotion soon ensued
when the women came ‘round
& took him away
I told ‘em that he can’t be trusted
that he’s a thief
yeah, he’s a thief
the little girl echoed
that’s what I’ve been telling you
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s magic
how the camel passes through
the eye of the needle
though there is not a single
witness
they said they remember
reading about it
going further to say
there isn’t any truth in it
that it was merely
hearsay
but I thought
we were talking about magic
the smallest one said
and if that is the case
I wholeheartedly
believe
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
so the furnace runs all day long
oh my it must be winter again
earlier I found a gummy in a tupperware
pill box right there on the top shelf
of the refrigerator —and so I popped it
into my mouth unsure what it was
or how it had gotten there
the house is empty like an abandoned
bird’s nest —that is except for Walter & me
at one point I had forgotten he’d been out
so gave him some treats two hours later
after letting him back in to a chorus of boos
upstairs three of the four bedrooms
are stone cold —I lock myself inside
one of them for a couple of hours
just to teach myself a lesson
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the creativity of the hand
and of the eye
one-of-a-kind productions
generational
acclaimed worldwide
worthy to be stolen
violated
imprisoned
& in some cases
transported to the moon
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they say the eyes never lie
or so says the minor poet
himself lost in his ways
subject to his own deception
fear not the casual whisper
capable of filtering
into a softly-felt crescendo
or so says the minor poet
birds throughout the ages
are subject to the winds
or so says the minor poet
teaching a child to fly
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
as if a little color could lift me up
off of this velcro-lined davenport
strategically placed in the southern-facing
windows of the dining room
nobody dares enter this the shrine
I’ve built over nearly a fortnight
especially the rays of the sun
hidden there behind naked trees
and the suffocating sky
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
at the bottom of the résumé
included the applicant’s hobbies
one of which was aspiring mystic
I cocked my head
and went back to the beginning
questioning my own judgment
—all of the mistakes made
my secret sins
the killing of so many possibilities
past & present
& future
how wrong could I have been
passing by on this piece of paper
as if it was as dead as those sea scrolls
(only to be revived)
as if once passing onto my desk
was most certainly destined for the fire
like a witch exposed
like a bird made out of clay
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
inspired by her absence
I keep the drawing room
well lit by candlelight
perusing the pages backwards
occasionally pausing
when finding something clever
or humorous or jaded
having left nary a note
nor encrypted message
I can only imagine
what destination awaits her
—lately having developed
a quasi-fixation
with anything martian
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s a new year
and half the world
is starting over
their collective wholes
waiting to rise above the ashes
once lines old & new
have been redrawn
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the man in the street
consumed by moral injury
has come to memorize
the many moods
of a complicated moon
the night air freezes over
making nature’s carpets crunchy
—naked trees giving little comfort
as the heart rate slows
to an all-time low
handouts are hard to find
especially when freedoms
continue to sail away
like helium balloons
let loose on new year’s eve
december two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
we were supposed to have landed
in the utopian basin
instead found ourselves in hellas planitia
yeah it was a bit warmer there
but the space bar was out of this world
that is until they closed it down for good
we were told about a mass migration
heading north to arabia terra
just outside the cassini crater
of course the winds were headed
in the wrong direction
which is exactly why we remained
in what would become a hellhole
for nearly a fortnight
december two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I am not me today
once checking out of rehab
I walk down the sidewalk
a man without a horse
the city’s no place for me
it’s high time I check into the future
where ocean waves
always change but never cease
off in the distance
there is a white horse pacing
up & down the shoreline
protecting the damaged dinghy
[that will one day become ours]
the very one that brought her there
december two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
when I finished the book
I took it with me to the library
—they said they didn’t have this one
and I said now you do
the pigeons on the front steps
don’t know how to read
but if they did they’d quickly find out
it’s best to hang with the ducks
just a few city blocks away
I made my way to the lake
(which is really just a big shallow pond
w/geese & ducks & an occasional pelican)
a new book under my wing
something about angels
looking homeward
sitting down on a bench
I kept the book shut
watched the walkers & joggers
& cyclists going by
wings tucked under their shoulders
not a single pigeon in sight
december two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
how am I to decide
which is the right way
the fork in the road is deceiving
there may be another route
underground
or aboveground
someone stole the signage
that pointed in so many different directions
—some say it may have been
banksy himself
they used to keep the extension
ladder
hanging in the garage
but now it leans against the back of the house
the kids in the neighborhood
fooled into thinking
there must be something worthwhile to photograph
through that second story window
december two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
he had to go back home
back to chicago
I think he was taking the bus
maybe he hitchhiked
or maybe he had a ride
his name was Mike
he was one of the good guys
some things you just don’t forget
we lived in a hell hole
along with six or eight other guys
who did nothing but trash the place
on the morning of your departure
you passed on some tools to me
most still with me to this day
december two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’m at a loss for a message
in a plastic coke bottle
afloat in the sea
cast w/no regard to whatever
bird or fish or mammal or
marine invertebrate
may happen to come eye to eye
w/the great artificial monster
december two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 