most care little
about running out of space
there’ll always be a patch
to plant pumpkins they say
always a spot in the wilderness
to build a log cabin
the bigger problem
most everyone seems to agree
is about running of time
at least living on this planet
with its natural resources
dwindling by the minute
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they were waiting to have a child
until they could afford one
an unlikely proposition
especially during a recession
he would tell stories about being
the only child
while she lamented
of being the youngest of the litter
childhood memories
didn’t appear to have any bearing
with their recent decision-making
or lack thereof
when spring arrived they planted
a grafted apple tree
special-ordered from the nursery
the kind with four varieties
months later the economy improved
the apples ripe for picking
each one given a name
alternating between boy & girl
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’m uncomfortable in my bed
tossing & turning
as if in a grave
roots & stones & dirt taking hold
preventing me
from rising to the surface
from sleepwalking
to the north window
slinging it wide open
from floating across the room
like dracula
flinging open
the south window as well
a cool breezeway
quickly ensuing
allowing me to settle back in position
and dream peacefully
with an all night rain
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the song is barely heard
but it’s there
buried beneath the rubble
the children need to hear it
on their hands & knees
clawing & digging with their fingers
there I can hear the song again
one of them says
it’s like a whisper but it’s there
and the others agree
digging even faster now
saying yes we can hear it too
adults with shovels
frantically plunge & pull the blade
throwing the contents
past their shoulder
the light of day passing through
the song of hope growing stronger
with each & every effort
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I took the liberty of picking out
some of your words
rearranged them to my liking
and sold them as my own
some might call it an act of stealing
but much like cheating
it never really happened
unless you got caught
mind you this is not an admission
especially since I never
mentioned it to anybody
but if someone claims otherwise
well that would be a lie
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the preparations are endless at some point
you say to yourself what the hell am I doing
but you go on anyway
first the passport and then the online shopping
to places like amazon to find that knockoff wallet
the one you carry around your neck
keeping your valuables out of sight
credit cards & euros & photos of your people
back home you’re afraid someone has stolen
the only identities you’ve ever known
meanwhile you are transported across the island
the one your ancestors came from
before arriving you used duolingo to learn the language
but then decided fuck it most of them know english
I bought a new iphone to take better pictures
in case I come across the whole lot of them
the mooneys and the connellys
tipping ales with the doyles in a tipperary tavern
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Nobody knows how it ends
which is probably the beauty
(or ugliness) of it all
When Cash covered Reznor
it reached a broader audience
doubling down on the reminder
none of us are here to stay
After the tulips & daffodils
& bleeding hearts die off
other colors are eager to replace them
& like clockwork
that’s exactly what transpires
I was looking out the bay window
one super windy morning
I spotted you across the street
(as plain as day)
walking your dog & looking my way
— I waved back nonchalantly
as if it were yesterday
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
this thing called loneliness
trending in the real
and virtual world
striking unsuspectingly
like a snake in the grass
it’s no wonder
mothers are worried
children pleading to stay home
loneliness the new norm
versus learning in school
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
something touched my shoulder
perhaps I had been dozing off
in & out of a dream
my eyes flickered
but it was too dark to see
instead heard metallic wind chimes
as if they had just been rewound
whoever was responsible
[for the touching and/or rewinding]
did not show themselves
in fact I started to believe they had minimized themselves
having fled into the woods behind the garden
it was cold out but plenty bright
and when I opened the blinds
the light was blinding
and for a brief moment I thought I saw them
I should have known not to open the blinds
at least not without an approving birdcall
something that had been missing
since before my self-induced slumber
I’m stuck
where I’ve been stuck
for what seems like a fortnight now
this rectangular room seemingly self-sustaining
three sides made of glass
the other w/a singular door
slightly ajar
floral & fauna
completely silent
looking in from the outside
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I could hear them in the kitchen
three little mice having just learned
how to make popcorn
I was rocking in the parlor
cleaning my gun & sharpening
my whittling knife
catching bits & pieces of their
unintelligible conversation
when the timer went off
I set down my block of wood
and proceeded to the kitchen
the smell of butter & salt & spilt beer
dominating my senses
cracking the basement door
all I heard were the opening credits
to walt disney’s cinderella
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I may have been nineteen
maybe twenty
when I nearly died
in my sleep
in my bed
sometime past midnight
below my bunk bed
an old chair smoldered
from a cigarette ash
slowly filling the room
with smoke
who awoke me
I’ll never know
but I was commanded
to wake up
as if from a dream
wake up you fool
lest you should die
when I escaped
the death chamber
the other residents
of the boarding house
quickly came back to life as well
hauling the chair away
meant for my demise
april two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
i.
she doesn’t remember me
not the old rock & roll songs
we used to danced to
taking cocaine breaks
back in the dressing room
ii.
I’m nearly her age
but she looks twice mine
at least from my perspective
— that irreversibility of time
iii.
I hear people saying
when did I get old darling
and they say baby
you’ve been timeless
since the day you were born
april two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
we knew the woods as well
as any wild animal
and they knew us
just the same
we tended to keep
to the minor trails
rifle & canteen strapped
on either shoulder
we were not at war
but a silent opposition
seemed to be surveilling
our movements
over time we learned
to scramble our signals
traversing in groups of three
or two or one
intercepted messages
labeled us as
the orphan parade
guardians of the trees
day by day we evolved
our mission never changing
constant orders from above
by way of telepathy
april two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
In-laws & outlaws
pretending to keep it real
laying down low in Coffeyville
One went country
two others headlong into hip-hop
the rest of the clan
sticking to rock & roll
w/an occasional nod to bluegrass
They reinvented what it means
to be broken people
having escaped the torture
of south central Kansas
settling for something brand new
something along the lines of Beverly Hills
april two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
not one generation will be spared
everyone has their skeletons
whether they know it or not
there’s no such thing as white lies
not as long as they keep piling on
the higher they stack up
the deeper the digging goes
bets are placed underground
bit players unknown to you & me
some of them conspiring
to rule the world
the remainder taking a number
april two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
having the right to remain silent
perhaps is exactly what
the powers that be
actually want
here in america
the silent majority is stocking up
while the insane minority
continues rampaging
on an ongoing basis
the rise in inflation
is not slowing down sales
of smith & wessons
neither is it preventing the poor
from getting poorer
here in america
human rights
& civil rights
have taken a back seat
to electric vehicles
the gas-powered ones
converted into mobile homes
or turreted weapons
april two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 