FILM
I just cleaned this window
but already
it’s coated with dust
and a long smear
where I tried
to wipe off the grime
I could clean it again
to better see
the clouds
and the moon
pale in a moody
blue sky
but that
would still leave
the grainy film
stuck
to the surface
of my eye.
HOW I GET TO THE TOMATO
Clouds melt like butter in a pan
sky as blue as Grandma’s pots
the dog whines again to go outside
but I’m too busy describing
how the dog wants to go outside
a whimper rising to a peevish growl
Grandma had a dog named Willie
and a cat named Whitey
summers down in the cellar
cool and damp
her liver-spotted hands
placing eggs on the scale
the arrow leaping to extra large
the dog still wants to go out
to her boxed-in little urban yard
and then she’ll want back in
but Willie roamed free
from farm to farm
sniffing cattails on the edge of
ponds
chasing rabbits deep into the woods
emerging into sunlight
disappearing into cornfields
showing up in time for dinner
on the dusky front porch
while the Indiana sun went down
like a fat ripe tomato.
FIELD OF POEMS
The verses
in this world
are legion,
numerous
as grains of sand
in your hair
or the tiny hairs
on your arm.
Yet,
kicking through
the poems
that rise
like lilies
up your
ankles
to your shins,
you somehow
improbably
pick this one.
SCRIVENER
If my boss
were to ask me
to get my ass
off the couch
my head
off the pillow
my body
out of pyjamas
and my bathed
shaved
neatly ironed self
back to the office,
my answer
would simply be,
“I would prefer not to.”
BURGER POEM
This is not
just another
waiting for burgers
poem,
but the best
waiting for burgers
poem
you’ve ever read.
If you doubt this,
your money
will be returned
at the end
of the poem.
Except,
as everyone knows,
there is no money
in poetry.
Scott Waters lives in Oakland,
California with his wife and son. He graduated with a Master's Degree in
Creative Writing from San Francisco State University. Scott has published
previously in The Main Street Rag, Better Than Starbucks, The Blue Nib, The
Pacific Review, Loch Raven Review, Adelaide, A New Ulster, and many other
journals. Scott's first chapbook, Arks, was published in 2021 by Selcouth
Station Press, and his poem "I Could Be Anybody" was nominated for
the Pushcart Prize.
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