Matthew Bass
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The Death Of Poetry, The Death Of MeA Poem by Matthew BassOh world! (blah). Poets! What have you become?Directionless without Bréton´s authorityObscure like early Rimbaudmuseum pieces in the atti.. |
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Another KissA Poem by Matthew BassThe cops are at the front doorbecause sometimes, love is violentand lingers on much longerthan it should.The broken glass will stay on the floorbecaus.. |
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Unconditional TommorrowsA Poem by Matthew BassI will not pinenor chase youthrough bad moviesfull of chichéswhen you alreadyhave a piece of my heartI don´t want back.It looks better on.. |
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Without PassionA Poem by Matthew BassXanax laced with coffee on a dirty mattress next to a cold shower inside the crumbling doorstep of the flat. A short walk from a subway haunted by .. |
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No More EncoresA Poem by Matthew BassI held your hand in a red theater with hundreds of scarlet Gods ,you would have never let my hand go until I let you, just before.. |
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Snapshots Of The Living: A Different AngleA Poem by Matthew BassTrue beauty: Tiny pixels of uglinesssurrounded by collages of true uglinessIt´safternoon hidden by street lights and the look of deathw.. |
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Only To YouA Poem by Matthew BassI promise I will smash unplane mirrors, let the stars align like all the times beforewith riddles cased in medieval stoneand shared cups of tea as we .. |
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Drunk On A Park BenchA Poem by Matthew BassI will sit here.Drink another beersmoke another cigarette,alone. And contemplatenothing.Meanwhile,Drunk Punk Mike stands on his cornerwith his white w.. |
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Machine Gun VictimsA Poem by Matthew BassThe intersectionof a third world market:An insurgent, and old mana woman, or a childbroken under dawn;sloppy pools ofbone and flesh.What they never sa.. |
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Alone In A Train StationA Poem by Matthew BassI fell into the concretewhen you turned your headat a harsh inward angle,and repliedwithout passion.I implodedinto a cubist paintingwhen I saw your ha.. |
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