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J Matthew Waters


paper tigers

once the children moved out
demons moved in disguised
as paper tigers roaming
from room to room

their emerald eyes shined
from the darkest corners
of the night reminding me
of a love I once had

I fed them sad stories
in exchange for my life
but their promises of light
I could not fathom

I asked them kindly to leave
my world but they curled
where the winter sun
shined through glass

in the spring I found strength
to unfold and reshape
keeping the demons at bay

as paper angels hanging
​

artificial visitations

sadness used to show up
unannounced and we’d sit up
until sunrise drinking
whatever was left in the house

I kept telling myself the next time
he appeared out of nowhere
I wouldn’t let him in
but of course that didn’t happen
and he continued to pretend
to be my friend

I told him I was thinking about buying
a brand new puppy
a black one I said
so I could learn how to keep him at bay
and teach him to protect me from
monsters like him

keeping the peace

she was an unlucky kind of girl
and though she wasn’t sure
what that meant
she loved to say it nonetheless

born scorpio with pisces rising
she always wondered
why there wasn’t a thirteenth house
one in which she could run and
hide from a world spinning inwards

safely tucked inside her
mysteriously secretive mind
she only assumes a
peacekeeping role after
extinguishing all other options

all alleys lead to sand and salt water

walking away from the sunset
shopping for the next place to sleep
eyes remain optimistic of a tomorrow
promising pay

all alleys in this pacific coast city
lead to sand and saltwater
along the way housing is made from
cardboard and wire and unfinished dreams

familiar hopeful faces
unite and welcome the wonders of the day
their hands busily preparing
to feed five thousand

in search of la niña

we took the long road
to the top of the island
believing by the time we got back
to the ocean
your father would be gone

pausing along the way
we listened to the distant waves
while lying on our backs
nibbling on treats and
pretending the clouds
flew like pink elephants

the rhythm of the water
slowly put us to sleep
our dreams commingling
as your father’s footfalls
echoed ever closer

​
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Boomerang  ☊

He started telling me things

little things
I had no business knowing

After a while the little things
mixed with the big things
and soon the important things
seemed to not matter so much

Every day for over two thousand
I did nothing but live alone with
my own thoughts

Of course I continued to enjoy
chocolate kisses and
group therapy and
kite flying

When he rescued me from
voluntary confinement
I screamed incoherently while
riding on the back of his fifty horses
hair blowing back horizontally
arms raised and flailing

Now after so many years since
time has turned around
and I find myself
drifting and regressing
but succeeding at exorcising
my very own demons

three day weekend

she left her stockings hanging
in the shower
leading me to believe
she would be back

but I knew she wouldn’t be back

there wasn’t much food
left in the house
but I didn’t feel much like
eating anyway

after a few days
I talked myself into believing
they were just a gift
so I tucked them away
somewhere she might find them

lennon's cat

this cat lived with us for about a year
and she was far out

she spoke many languages
and loved to recite poetry
while sipping on herbal tea

we loved to listen to her stories
about how she always
caught her mouse
or made the dude next door
shit his pants

one day she left the house and never
came back

we just figured she needed a break
before spending the rest of her
lives at the dakota
​

new moon rising  ☊

we walked between the lake
and the rail yards
smoking cigarettes
and spitting on
century old ties
wondering if the midnight train
would arrive on time

it was a year ago tonight marshall
died on these very tracks
attempting to escape
his own restlessness
his dream of starting a
new life
in st louis or kansas city or santa fe
seemingly interrupted

we made a fire
like we always do
and sat in a circle
our voices as quiet as
stones skipping on water
our karma just a little off kilter
one of us asking rhetorically
why there is no moon

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***

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