Village of Ice

Beyond These Walls

Suzanne

In a Fugue

Hands of Red Clay

The Mentor

A Ladder Will Reach You

The Quintessential Miscreant

Almost a Man in the Hood

Technobank

Restlessness

No Such Thing

An Uneasy Recovery

The Light of Day

A Ladder Will Reach You

Lonely and slouched, rocking in the chair
bottle of moonshine half empty next to the leg
I listen discreetly
to the runner rubbing the edge of the beaker
curious of the once in a lifetime note it creates
saddened as I attend to matters of the heart.

As my mind wanders aimlessly down a half lit alley
suspicious of the sound my sneakers make
on the slick blacktop,
leery of the lingering smell of tobacco
in the moist air
distressed by the district’s depreciating value
I quicken my pace at the thought of being stalked.

The heartbeat increases
the eyesight sharpens
the sense of smell rises twentyfold.
Like a dream, this black and white world around me
is lucid and obscure
reveals to me in step by step macros
every footfall I’ve ever taken
the uncompromising consequences.

My flurry leads me to a rural highway
wooden ladders displace the mile markers.
Infinate and igher than skyscrapers
each numbered and named and weathered
each revealing a truth at its peak
only one reserves the rights
to your true locality.

Lonely and slouched, rocking in the chair
I reach for the bottle
before returning to the ladders.

Copyright, 1996, by J. Matthew Waters
The Next Poem is The Quintessential Miscreant
or go Home