white collar heist
a performing artist
finding vulnerabilities
cracks in walls
a chink in the armor
picking off assets on the net
cash & coins & tokens
slipped into stealth wallets
—they said it had to have been an inside job
had to have been
an inside job
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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
information flows freely
between these so-called
chinese firewalls
where there isn’t much anyone
can actually do about it
they put up some drapes
heavy as sleeping bags
across the front bay window
making it impossible for the sun
to shine through
though somehow moonlight
sometimes leaked in
in the first lower level
there was a darkroom where on
weekends amateur photographers
gathered to develop
black and white mineral mines
pushing them out undetected
into the secondary marketplace
in the second lower level
there was the infamous wine cellar
where on any given sunday
you could enjoy the rarest of merlot
picking out the oldest of stones
at your leisure
the local police carried no search
warrant as they came
crashing in on horseback
shooting first and asking
questions next
long after the webmaster
and his virtual entourage
slipped past the gate
january two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’ve always kept the magic wand
under my bed
the one I lifted from the magician
at the TV station when I was
five years old
it was my first trick
I snatched it when all the kids
shuffled their feet forward
in single-file fashion
awaiting like ants on fire
to shake hands with the
man of the hour
I slipped it inside my pant leg
and never looked back
never told one soul
selfishly I kept the magic
of the magic wand to myself
once upon a time on a cloudy day
I wandered into an open field
pointing the wand high into the air
soon I guided the birds of the sky
as best I could
orchestrating their climbs and falls
their motionless glides
over the years I came to understand
the potential of its powers
and it frightened me
for decades I kept her
in darkness
imagining how she must be thriving
storing up energy
put out by endless dark matter
amassing a lethal arsenal of old
but new tricks dying to be shown
march two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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