9thstreetmatt : Writing

what of the morning now existing in blood

what of the morning now existing in blood

A Poem by 9thstreetmatt


i know this written at my father's house...on a computer in a horribly wall papered room that my step sister left for college and a romance with her o..
i lived and entire life while god ate his breakfast

i lived and entire life while god ate his breakfas..

A Story by 9thstreetmatt


years ago . when life was good. and life was full of busch lights and kjhk. when life was full of cooks and poets...when life meant paul. my only true..
i like your way mother f****r

i like your way mother f****r

A Poem by 9thstreetmatt


listen. when your brother and you are drinking - reading - doing drugs - and come from a midwest christian family...( wayte this has been done) then y..
may first - - - - - - - - - - - 2001

may first - - - - - - - - - - - 2001

A Story by 9thstreetmatt


listen cats. i have the day off and i am seeping with sweat and this old journal covered in duck tape and pictures of william s burroughs waving a gun..
11/8/2003

11/8/2003

A Poem by 9thstreetmatt


i'm not going to say i am a great poet. in fact my brother said i lacked concrete imager often with my poems and enjoyed my prose .. . .. .. .. but i..
unknown and written sometime between 2001 and 2002

unknown and written sometime between 2001 and 2002

A Poem by 9thstreetmatt


this is apart of my collection of poems that is typed up and wrinkled in the "big blue" note book of peoms. written during a fury of months ..
journal entry on april third 2001

journal entry on april third 2001

A Story by 9thstreetmatt


love is the last religion
staring at a salon blonde - march 2001 - journal entry

staring at a salon blonde - march 2001 - journal e..

A Story by 9thstreetmatt


this is on the next page in my journal - after the initial poem
staring at salon blonde -march 2001

staring at salon blonde -march 2001

A Poem by 9thstreetmatt


sitting at henry's where i fell into books, cigarettes and staring at the woman who washed my hair at sakaroffs.

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