I am not in a position
to perjure myself
I quietly retreat into
the comfort of shadows
after having been pointed at
I’ve begun to tackle
minimalism
learning how not to think
and care less
I’ve been pointed at
and accused
of doing nothing
guilty as charged they say
my sentence haphazard
and very much unfitting
february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there is this hope
that exists all on it’s own
and sometimes
we understand it
like there’s no tomorrow
and other times
it’s the most elusive thing
in the world
like a pearl in a locket
buried in the past
february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I wasn’t about to give in
so I settled into letter writing
seven of them in seven days
eleven pages in all
never intended
for the daily mail
I read them one at a time
weeks having passed by
before committed to memory
having not the heart
to destroy them
I secured them in a lock box
in the post office
from there I would renew
my passport & never return again
february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it was a voluntary quarantine
back in january of eight-two
campus town nearly deserted
the old house breathing heavily
single pane windows fogging over
the dragon in the basement
lay restless & toying with fire
keeping the water flowing
and feverishly gnawing at
the golden chains that bind him
inside the fourth floor dormer
alien freshmen feast & party
on quaaludes & bubble hash
second-hand smoke & laughter
overtaking the ductwork
february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
handguns are made for killing
where do you keep yours
in a false ceiling
a kitchen drawer
under the mattress
or simply holstered
in the back of your blue jeans
it’s cold outside
but then again it’s january
and nobody without a dog
can be seen out walking
but to a mile west
down at the park in the city center
crime tape & body chalk
seem to be the talk of the town
man-made lights flashing flamboyantly
the breath of the living
visibly filling the dead air
february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
for Robert J. St. Clair, Jr.
where have you gone
old friend in the obituary
brown beady eyes
exactly like nineteen seventy-one
looking to the side
and down
so as not to be caught looking
you once told me you felt
vacant inside
leaving me to wonder
if that’s how it always was
or did you come to terms
with who you had become
you’ve been a stranger to me
decades on end
and I imagine you must understand
more than I ever will
at least for the moment
while I remain inside this vessel
february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
You run into it so many times a day
random thoughts inherited from the dead
uninterested in certain ponderings
the v-shaped flight of geese
rarely symmetrical
those big badass birds
capable of inflicting harm on
unsuspecting gods
Some stories are meant to change
needing a fresh voice
or begging for embellishment
but those incapable of change
man-made conventions
designed to pass the test of time
containing many great truths
& irreversible lies
february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
though these hills are not mine
they are a most welcomed sight
rolling like a surreal memory
reappearing any day or night
rolling hills unfold a colorful valley
introducing dreamlike coastlines
free from greed & corruption
and self-righteous shrines
all destruction’s been destroyed
replaced by acres of wildflowers
a newfound spirit rising with the sun
resurrected into a new age
this self-healing land will live on
long after warring sides vanish
bestowed to us by the almighty
this day forward ‘til kingdom come
february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the fire burns
but does not warm
& I find myself
digressing past oblivion
that place where dreams
replace realistic scenes
ones you’ve not seen
since the start of the
previous season
it was a temporary life
these wildflowers
wrapping them in damp
breathable cloth &
transported with haste
a few precious petals
secured inside
heart-shaped boxes
all others transplanted
february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the future arrived
a few short days ago
leaving scores scurrying
for new answers
at the pentacrest
arsonists & anarchists
met in the open air
bonfire attracting
the moths & the hungry
visitors circled above
in their hovercrafts
reminding anyone looking up
who was in charge
throughout the lands
cities burned & people fled
the guardians declaring
there was no place
to realistically hide
locals were reminded
by the visitors that the
best place to go
was that place called home
but the anarchists & the
arsonists had other ideas
opposite of the guardians’
february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
angel numbers are aplenty
appearing as close as
the new moon in aquarius
& as far away as pluto
the lord of destruction
it’s a perfect time to take
advantage of the twos
collect & stash them
if you’re willing & able
or before it’s too late
february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
crocodile clouds give way
to elephants marching
slowly into the horizon
at times they’re suffocating
pulled down by gravity
& one hundred one kite flyers
catch & release is the game
unable to tame the wild
send them back with fire & fury
what comes around stays
for maybe an eternity
or until the next near extinction
february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
who will remember the days
on the road
trying to get somewhere
a bridge from nowhere
leads to someone else’s stories
told & untold & retold again
at some point
I’ll remember not the last time
giving birth
it’s an unending cycle
the perennial rose
seemingly dead for decades
comes back to life
on a whim
meanwhile a little dirt
& a pithy memo
float freely inside a bottle
january two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’ve been lost before
so this time I’m taking it
all in stride
having recently arrived
in montgomery
this is not the first time
I’ve been down south
and once when I was there
I thought I’d never
make it back alive
history is not on our side
old friend
it seems this time
it’s damn near impossible
for anyone to save us
january two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she doesn’t want to talk
I can relate
and the other one
can’t hear too well
& doesn’t understand me
it was a short conversation
and somewhat irrelevant
just checking in I say
as if I’ve nothing left to do
the night becomes quiet
a sneaky suspicion
comes & goes as it wishes
like a dormouse in the pantry
I keep telling myself
no news is good news
as long as the fire burns itself out
and the living
keep on breathing
january two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I took him out I did
the one with the rich man’s gold
gave him the gun & buried the booty
It don’t matter which way the winds blow
the landscape constantly changing
go ask any old Sasquatch
What else is new
besides being on the run again
rolled up maps in my quiver
treasures in the southern hemisphere
january two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 