I didn’t know
memorial day was coming
until I drove down the street
to a sea of large
American flags
waving in the wind
from telephone poles

it used to be just
the influx of people
coming here for their
precious 3 day weekend
that set me off
but this year
this time
it is more than that
so much more

the sight of the flag(s)
blowing around
like they own the joint
is bad enough
but even the colors now
strike a nerve in me
I think it’s the
idiotic people
that have formed a cult
around the flag
to worship their
almighty trump
the lunacy
the disgusting nature
of these supposed
god fearing people
their hate
their racism
their lies
it’s just fucking disgusting
they have tarnished that flag
they have turned it into
a damn prop
that means next to nothing
outside of their politics
hatred and lies

this isn’t the same country
that my grandfather fought for
in WW2
this isn’t the same country since
Korea or Vietnam
hell, it isn’t even the same country
that is was
during Iraq 1 or 2 or even Afghanistan!

this is new
but it had been festering underground
for far too long
so long
that when it finally showed up
most of the country
didn’t even think it was real!

I’m s sick of humanity
keep your fucking flag
empires were made to crumble

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at this new place
I have a new office
I don’t look at it as an office
I look at it as my room
my place
my sanctuary
my church
my own whorehouse
with me as it’s only
occupant

the place is a shit tip
envelops and mailers
ripped up
on the floor
I have a collection of
empty wine bottle behind me
to my left in the corner
I have a graveyard
of empty cigarette packs
that I will eventually
tear up and use
as bookmarks
I’m surrounded by
the greatest books that
have ever been written

I sit at this desk
write my amazing poems
listening to music
if I’m not writing
I stand up over at the dresser
reading these great books
to get inspired
then come back here and write
chain smoke
and drink bottle after bottle
of red wine
until the sun comes up

I’m in here the majority
of the day
it seems like
I better start making
a little scratch
off this writing thing
before my wife
realizes that I’m a sham
then the jig will be up
I’ll have to go be a real human
get a job
to make some other fucker rich
while barely getting paid
enough
to live in the most horrible
and awful way imaginable

if you are reading this
you can send your
check or money order
fuck, even cash
to:

Matt Wall
P.O. Box 5502
Sugarloaf, Ca. 92386

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I used to think that anyone could write anything great
I never thought that it had to do with anything in particular.
lately,
as I am older,
I look at what people younger than me write
and also what people older than me write.

it seems that the younger generations are writing
about love lost that somehow
was horribly abusive

older folks
older than me I should say
seem to write in a safety
that I find both challenging and disgusting.
they speak of nothing by using large words.
painting a picture of utter nothingness
that might roll well off the tongue.

I picked up some poetry books
read through them
and it sounds like some
high school angst bullshit.

I picked up a book from a writer
who’s career has spanned four decades
and it’s soft.
he wasn’t always soft
but this was trite pap.

where the fuck is all the danger?
where is the realism in this escapism?
there is nothing!
NOTHING

we live in a society
where everyone has to have the same
opinion
or they are
unpersoned.
this is ludicrous and complete crap

the few are the loudest
and the loudest are the fascists
they are the ones who scare everyone
into thinking the same
doing the same
saying the same
being the same.

this is all shit

give me danger
give me blood
give me love
give me fucking
give me murder
give me depression
give me suicide

take these victims away
throw them into a burning vat
of self pity and shit

we need to take the word
take these typed pages
by the balls and kill them
beat the masses with our written words
and let their souls rise from the ashes
of crap and mediocrity
like a phoenix made out of feces and bone.

fucking hell,
i just want something good to read.

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people have been led to believe
that they are too stupid to understand it
because every fucking crappy
cocksucking fucking college prof
who was a failed poet
who now just teaches people what poetry is
explains to them that poetry
is fucking complicated
and obscure
and that you have to use form

form is dead
it is fucking dead
it’s as dead as crunk
you know what I’m saying?

you shouldn’t have to go out
buy a dictionary
to read a book of poetry
poetry in it’s simplest form should be saying
something complicated in a very simple way
using as few words as possible
if you want to use a bunch a big words
and as many of them as possible
go write a fucking novel
and call it:

“sucking my own dick,
my trite fucking penis
by cocksucker of the universe”

poetry seems like something that
very effeminate people are into
because that is the way it has been presented
yes there are effeminate people who are into poetry
but there are also very masculine people
who are into poetry

it is a type of therapy
type of expression
I would never say someone spilling their guts on paper,
wasn’t a poet
even if I thought it was complete and utter shit
because it IS poetry
is it good?
no
but it’s poetry

that’s the reason why poetry is not popular
because the fucking gatekeepers
these fucking form nazi fuckers
that make it what it is
have made people believe
that it is a complex thing
that not everyone can master
the only thing that they can ‘master’
is masturbating
so fuck them

join me for POETIC ANARCHY, a 4 week poetry course where we make sure that WHAT you say is more important that HOW you say. Sign up now for a huge discount! Only through this week!