The Ballad Of miniMATTHEW

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I DON’T LIKE YOU AND I WANT YOU TO GO AWAY

“I wanted to burn my memories.”

CRAIG THOMPSON

Blankets, 2003

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I don’t like you and want you to go away

I don’t hate you but I just don’t want to play

If I had a heart it would have broken into a million pieces

And now I’d be just like you

Like tiny hammers, I’m beaten by the rain

There’s irreparable damage to my paperback Hemmingway

I’m so envious of the pages as they stick together like glue

Reminding me of what I’ve lost now I’m without you

I’ve seen storms like this before

But we were curled up safe and warm

You said, “Let’s be friends”

But I don’t like you

I love you

And that’s where it ends

I’m a model of inarticulacy

Only the bottle has ever gotten through to me

But it doesn’t hold me, it doesn’t light the way

You say it’s not me but I can’t believe a word you say

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HITCHHIKERS MAY BE ESCAPED LUNATICS

“When a man can produce an air of mystery about himself, he always has the upper hand when dealing with the public.”

PAUL AUSTER

The Brooklyn Follies, 2005

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The shadow points like an arrow straight to the lake

My tears fall, forming a puddle, I can relate

The baby was taken to the water

I sort of understand

Why we dress ourselves up as a pauper

But look like Lords in a foreign land

Though I’m not new to this it doesn’t mean my heart’s been made immune to this

But I won’t brick it up, brick it up, brick it up

Always try my best

Hitchhikers may be escaped lunatics

Still I gotta pick them up, pick them up, pick them up, pick them up, pick them up

While I understand change is not necessarily progress

I’m hopelessly open and tuned to you

I’m closest to heaven and least confused

When I’m vulnerable, when I try to give

I can shrug off all that useless shit

I’ve accrued and you use against me

The meadow where the child was laid low will not become a shrine

The scarecrow, ignored by the sparrow, was planted malign

The family was broken into pieces

I conceded it was time

But still we disagreed how to treat this

I’d release it you’d sharpen knives

Though I’m not new to this it doesn’t mean my heart’s been made immune to this

But I won’t brick it up, brick it up, brick it up

Always try my best

Hitchhikers may be escaped lunatics

Still I gotta pick them up, pick them up, pick them up

Though I’m not new to this it doesn’t mean my heart’s been made immune to this

But I won’t brick it up, brick it up, brick it up

Always try my best

Hitchhikers may be escaped lunatics

Still I gotta pick them up, pick them up, pick them up, pick them up, pick them up

While I understand change is not necessarily progress

I’m hopelessly open and tuned to you

I’m closest to heaven and least confused

When I’m vulnerable, when I try to give

I can shrug off all that useless shit

I’ve accrued and you use against me

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FASTER THAN THE WAVE

“A smile on that face would look like a sin.”

SPIKE MILLIGAN

Puckoon, 1963

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Am I lying, sleeping, dreaming, waiting for the waking night to end?

Or am I stood upon a headland safe from what was about to descend?

The wave came massive, spreading, crashing, blocking out the crying, helpless sun

It was coming quicker, castrating, hemorrhaging, a wall you could never outrun

The people on the ground were not faster than the wave

But I was on the cliff where I saw it destroy L.A.

Your hand tightened on to mine, arms entwined, knuckles whiter than the crest

That roared and fell, despised and spat into the cracks a plague in fact to infest

You turn to me to see if I see how the sea so mercilessly takes the town

But what could we do looking on, it’s nearly gone, you can’t fight nature’s lebensraum

The people on the ground were not faster than the wave

But I was on the cliff where I saw it destroy L.A.

Just silence as the violence passed, a judgement or unholy pact I couldn’t say

The splintered trees and broken stones, abandoned cars and ruined homes would have to weigh

And there we were with no idea, burdened by a euphoria I can’t explain

I felt like God, asleep but safe, omnipotent, out of harm’s way and entertained

The people on the ground were not faster than the wave

But we were on the cliff and we saw it destroy L.A.

The sky was clear and blue marine, serene, so clean and drying out the shaken sands

Oh, when the pain lets up and I wake up the world it can seem so damned grand

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MONKEY BARS

“Is one a serf or isn’t one? That’s what it all boils down to.”

P.G. WODEHOUSE

Carry On, Jeeves, 1925

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Boys queuing for bread and wine

Ceremonial dress not a big enough sign

I wasn’t catholic enough

Secretly took a taste when I washed up the cup

It’s straight to hell for me

I don’t recognise your authority

Singing for harvest time

All the tins we brought for the bring-and-buy

Lip-syncing hymn 73

Jane couldn’t hold out and had to wee

It’s straight to hell for her

As the pee runs towards the alter

They were inside preying to stars

I was outside swinging on the monkey bars

It couldn’t be understood

Now I can’t shake off my childhood

Luckily the first stirrings of lust

Coincided with me passing my eleven plus

It’s straight to hell for me

I learnt the alphabet G, U, I, L, T

And the years slipped away from me

Images dissolve from my memory

The struggle to move on

I never once felt like I ever belonged

They were inside preying to stars

I was outside playing on the monkey bars

They were inside preying to stars

I was outside playing on the monkey bars

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BEFORE IT GOT COMPLICATED

“Sometimes a thing that’s hard is hard because you’re doing it wrong.”

DON DELILLO

Point Omega, 2010

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I was born in a storm on the rooftop of a shoe shop

Out in Tito’s Yugoslavia with the features of my father

And I never thought I’d want for anything that was beyond my reach

When a dragonfly flaps its wings the scales spread out like a disease

Alcohol ate its way through my friends

Like it ate its way through the Indians

The Cayuga and the Mohicans

We didn’t talk about it at our own expense

Maybe I should have anticipated

The stench of death was our favourite fragrance

And freedom was overrated

My comrades line up underneath the pavement

And their bodies were desecrated

We haven’t advanced further than the cavemen

So sure that I could change it

Before it got so complicated

I saw a doctor but I swapped her modern remedies for 10 of these

Little red pills filled on demand

Delivered in cling film with a rubber band

The sunshine isn’t gun-shy it’s the nighttime which will cut your throat

To think we used to get out of everything with a teacher’s note

It’s so cold if you smile then your lips will crack

I guess there’s no danger of us doing that

I never thought happiness could be opulent

You can suppress it but the truth always tries to get out

Maybe I should have anticipated

The days repeat like they’re syndicated

A sip of water can become sacred

If your canteen’s contaminated

So many way we’re violated

Our faces became emaciated

I’m amazed it’s still rotating

When it’s got so complicated

Alcohol ate its way through my friends

With rotten food and cigarette ends

What’re you gonna do when your feet are wet

And you were raised to believe you’re delicate

Maybe I should have anticipated

I seem to be getting even more reflective

Legs are heavy like they’re infected

The swelling’s telling me they’re turning septic

If I could sleep I’d soon forget it

Nightmares only come when I’m awake

And parody my family training

Before it got so complicated

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35 SUMMERS

“We’re beyond a reason to be here. We’re here.”

ROBERT MASON

Chickenhawk, 1983

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January, February, April, May and June

July and August, made me forget March

They burnt away the gloom

And all the ‘bers from Septem’ to Decem’

I cajoled and condemned into insignificance

Gofer-like they pop up from the mound

And I smash their heads down claiming them a pestilence

If I’m lucky I’ve probably only got 35 summers left

My problem was I often contemplated on this when I should have slept

But I guess it makes the days longer

Isn’t it strange how we continually ignore our inevitable demise

It’s all a pack of lies but we seem like it that way

January, February, April, May and June

July and August, made me forget March

It seemed possible

I’ll tell you something that’s underrated

When you’re tired going to bed and waking when you’re hungry

I stayed up dreaming of the West Coast

Strangers raising a toast to my name

I was somebody

If I’m lucky I’ve probably only got 35 summers left

My problem was I often contemplated on this when I should have slept

But I guess it makes the days longer

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VANDALIZE MY HEART

“Amnesia felt like freedom.”

REBECCA SOLNIT

Motion Studies, 2003

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Put the strip lights out, eventually I’ll close my eyes

Enter through my mouth, crawl down into my insides

Cut a crooked line in the hot, wet, pink tissue

Make it just as wide as your hat and you’ll fit through

Now I can feel you under my skin

A rhapsodic ending

Vandalize my heart - already lost the sensation

Vandalize my heart - cauterize the contagion

Vandalize my heart - begin the latest mutation

Add to the treasured scars - come on, I’m getting impatient

They say you’re invasive, I say you’re essential

What you can achieve with primitive tools

A certain look or a wave hint you’re available

All can put to shame the sharpest scalpel

We have to eat, we don’t have to love

It’s a synthetic human construct

Vandalize my heart - whisper an incantation

Vandalize my heart - a vital operation

Vandalize my heart - conclude its initiation

Then we’ll hit the bar - start the celebration

If you encounter anything continue your mission

My immune system will fight, bite and sting

Try anything, it won’t be easy

A minefield of defences have been constructed to shield me

In my body, God stands before me

I’ve made plans for your escape, I don’t expect you to die

Don’t feel an ounce of hate or demand suicide

You can wash off the muck, there’s really nothing to fear

Work you way to the ducts, you can exit through my tears

Vandalize my heart

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NEW ALIEN ENVIRONMENT

“I have nothing and I have nothing to lose.”

DAN FANTE

86’d, 2009

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Fix your tie until it looks like a necklace

I hear the teachers will eat you for breakfast

And all they will send back home

Is the shrapnel that splintered your clean white bones

There’s a chance you could justify

Cracking open a second bottle of wine

But I just don’t know

How helpful it will prove tomorrow

Yes, it’s true that this new alien environment is hostile to you

We happily do to ourselves what we find disgusting in others

So lose your radical views

You cannot dip your toes into darkness and pass straight through

Whether you choose to acknowledge it or not

Your life’s a mix of coincidence and God

The past is gone, you’re no longer an exception

The world is as unthinking as an erection

And you can only be proud

Of the things you’ve done yourself, pretty girl

Late at night when the fun turns to violence

And you confuse the music for sirens

Cover up the cadaver

Mask the formaldehyde with lavender

And remember

When no one’s listening to what you’re saying you can say anything

Cry about everything or nothing at all

When no one’s listening to what you’re saying you can say anything

Cry about everything or nothing at all

When no one’s listening to what you’re saying you can say anything

Cry about everything or nothing at all

When no one’s listening to what you’re saying you can say anything

Cry about everything or nothing at all

Remember Index Librorum Prohibitorum

If you highlight someone you’re rewarding them

So if they pick on you

Be content with the thought that I’m thinking of you

Yes, it’s true that this new alien environment is hostile to you

We happily do to ourselves what we find disgusting in others

So lose your radical views

You cannot dip your toes into darkness and pass straight through

Whether you choose to acknowledge it or not

Your life’s a mix of coincidence and God

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I AM AN ARTIST

“What I had taken for talent had been only youth and energy, nothing more.”

OLGA GRUSHIN

The Dream Life Of Sukhanov, 2005

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It’s not important if you don’t want to sing along with my song

My brain says things can’t go on this way

Pretty soon my body will help me

No we won’t be left here waiting for too long

I’ve filled up notebooks which could see opinion turn, don’t worry they’ll all burn

I always clear out on the first day of the year

I’ll never leave you to read through my problems

Most people don’t know I’ve got them, maybe concerns

I consider this an intellectual breakthrough of some weight

That I can stand up without embarrassment and state

I am an artist

Don’t get me started

I’m not saying I’m superior but I’m not normal either

Good or bad, it doesn’t matter

Only that I feel this way

I have been trained to recognise peril them carry on anyway

Watching people help load the gun that kills them

Whether a familiar or foreign skyline

Holiday is a waste of time so what do you say

I consider this an intellectual breakthrough of some weight

That I can stand up without embarrassment and state

I am an artist

I’ll sacrifice my life for my art

Not my art for my life

That’s not right, I’ve no choice

Music’s the sound of God’s voice

Everything around us right now originated in someone’s head

All I want to do is my part

To build a bridge across a canyon

But my peers aren’t listening, I think they’re dead

I consider this an intellectual breakthrough of some weight

That I can stand up without embarrassment and state

I am an artist

I am

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HANGING ON TO HATE

“The distance between him and the nearest passer-by was infinite.”

EDWARD LEWIS WALLANT

The Tenants Of Moonbloom, 1962

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I saw the rainbow through my window just after I got in

Okay, it’s beautiful but I am still soaked to the skin

I believe in having something

To believe in

So I climbed a mountain without caution the top was so depressing

When you get back down to the town you soon know what you were missing

I believe in every person

I believe in you

Though I can’t stand anyone in my sight

I’m hanging on to hate and I know that I must be right

Right, I must be right

Stood next to a waterfall I was in awe of what I was seeing

It was incredible but after all I had an empty feeling

I believe in ignoring reasons

I believe the truth

Here comes the sunset, orange to violet, a final blessing

It’s what I expect to see when I die not while I’m convalescing

I believe we can make ourselves

Believe when it suits

Though I’m too frightened to go out at night

I’m hanging on to hate and I know that I must be right

Right, I must be right

I looked up for an hour under the Eiffel Tower at the sky it dominated

I’ve got to forget the flowers, just feel the power, ‘cos I know man made it

I believe or at least I try to

Saying please hate me

Though I can’t stand anyone in my sight

And I’m too frightened to go out at night

The gallows are clean and it’s getting light

So I’m hanging on to hate and God knows I must be right

Right, God knows I’m right

You know I’m right