wanting to go deep
past the beginning
the starting place
keeps changing
self-medicating
with various devices
unlikely approved
by the powers that be
haphazardly curing
that which ails me
one unforgivable sin
at a time
before the cock
crows (again)
I tell myself I’ve never
denied you
not in this life
nor the next
august two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s always been that way
nothing about the past
is fair
and the future
will always be flawed
when you sit down
and wonder if things are moving
in the right direction
something hits you in the face
reminding you
the system always operates
with vital parts missing
october two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
satan sat poised and silent
listening to the dead man’s plea
nodding like a disinterested psychiatrist
who magnanimously extended the session
so the injured soul could recount
all the right reasons
for distrusting the existence
of life after death
august two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
“The wages of sin is death”
flashed before my eyes
while driving 80 miles per hour
on Highway 13.
A pain shot up
my arm and for a moment
I had no hands on the steering wheel.
In what context, I wondered
did the homemade sign suggest?
And why did it happen
to find me there?
march, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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