a hired hand
stop looking out the window
what did you expect
it’s still february
the pizza joints were heating up
but you had better ideas
I noticed I aged another year
in about a week
there was nothing that could have
been done about it
having broken
the handheld mirror
you said you could fix me
in one hundred days
naturally I called your bluff
halfway through I was reported
to have been spotted
downtown
uptown
in the mall
at the library
skating on thin ice
reciting poetry at parlor city
all the while you kept flipping cards
a cigarette burning
in the ashtray
the seat across the table
freshly painted blue
& vacant
february two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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