who do your private moments belong to?

i could've been your girl cover

perhaps you will also find humor in youtube's suggested tags:

matt have loves, you said? interesting.

getting there

an understanding

give me a record deal
(i dare you)




lightning on the sidewalk create me in your image

there’s a reason everything disappeared last night

i want you feeling certain you understand why i came to your house

why i showed up in the middle of a bad personal fight

well

lover make me anxious

at least have the decency to put your purse outside

lover make me angry

when the rain comes it will ruin everything in sight

do you feel certain you understand why i came to your house

why i showed up in the middle of a bad personal fight

lightning on the sidewalk cremates me in your image

everything disappears at night…and…

lover make me anxious
at least have the decency to put your purse outside

lover make me angry

when the rain comes it will ruin everything in sight

do you know why i knocked twice

well i knocked twice 
do you know why i came to your house last
 

if it feels good do it

 































"if it feels good do it" it was this advice which finally enabled me to accomplish--without sacrificing the least degree of personal comfort at any time--every great work deed and act of faith god had ever commissioned of me

wide and easy

circle

it should go without saying (and maybe it does) that any poem posted on this blog may not be in its final form.

remember, a poet is two things: 1) never wrong, and 2) always revising

Circle

bump bump sway

nineteenth maybe eighteenth century

carriage bumps over a path of stones

left by no one

exposed rather than laid

a body dead at the reins directs

mortal horses beautiful flanks manes history

bump bump sway

inside

the southern belle sweats

not so striking as she once was

before all the sinning

she is soft flat asymmetrical

bony in some places

she asks the corpse perched on the driver’s bench

when they will be arriving

bump bump sway

it must be a million degrees

the trees are more like magma than anything

coals have long since replaced the grass

beneath the sun three maybe four moons also burn

she tells the dead she believes

they may have passed this particular flame before

bump bump sway

not watching the path

he turns to speak through a wooden grate

he says,

“I want your body.”