KNOT Magazine
Fall Issue 2022
Scott Waters
Passenger
Some songs demand privacy
driving alone
to pick up a pizza
Dylan’s latest
grinding and rasping
from the speakers
words red as blood
sharp as spurs
clean as steel
sending my mind
on a thousand mile journey
through boarded up towns
reeking black swamps
to the Mississippi delta
and a guitar picker
on a rotten log
plucking sweet strings
but a passenger
would comment on the weather
and ask me if I were registered
to vote.
Song of the South
Hank Williams
on the radio
busted whine
of a voice
looping honeydrip
guitar fills
each song
a broken brown
beer bottle shard
gleaming under
honky tonk
stage lights
stuck in a pool of
sweet
spilled
Southern blood
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 Blue Nib, The Pacific Review, Loch Raven Review, Adelaide, Better Than Starbucks, A New Ulster, Selcouth Station, The Courtship of Winds, Scarlet Leaf Review, The Pangolin Review, Ink in Thirds, and many other journals. Scott's first chapbook will be published by Selcouth Station, and his poem "I Could Be Anybody" has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.
Sound Hole
I last saw you
in April 1990
you were living in a van
outside Albuquerque
with your wife
and flamenco guitar
complaining about
the greedy bank
that had taken your cabin
in the Sangre de Cristo mountains
this morning I searched online
figuring you were dead
and found numerous videos of you
a grey-headed dervish
with a guitar
and a following of thousands
in one of the videos
you and your wife
sat in what I assumed
was the cabin
you had always sworn
to get back
Indian rugs on the walls
sandy green mountains
visible through a
large window
your fingers stroking
the strings
of a dream
I sent you a message
on Facebook
saying how good it was
to see you alive
when the response came
from your step-daughter
my heart flopped
in my throat