we walk staring at the ground, staring at the faces
hands rested in familiar places,
puffed air, breath out; defiance
soft hums of working metals
roll through alleys and down nestled sidewalks
eyes quiver against sweeping cold
and I'm told
told to be the whole soul
an old role
habits, and lack of good ones
slumping, sleeping away
chasing luck's rolling waves
til the soul is saved
no more wasting days
no more sulking ways
enveloped in an eternal gloom
so soon to be sold into doom
no room for poor panicked you
the sad shift of gentle things
the fast fist of struggling
polished people look into shining mirrors
as I look into saturated dreams
recount, regret splitting seems
farther down from the crown
than a man should be
resting heads on rolled up beds
want fucked, drunk, and fed
want warm rooms
without the face of death
in dirt and stones in empty shoes
in dreams and thoughts too
souls spin in thousands
lost causes tie them to the ground
floating hopes like sinking boats
churning in the wake
i'm a step removed and slightly unseen
beyond the arch of the artillery
beyond the clouds of dropping debris
first come first serve for what they deserve

1 comment:

  1. Great art Matty! I love your "Picasso" and the female figure all aglow in white. I really love the first piece you have posted, it makes me think of being in a Tim Burton movie set.