Tag Archives: major matt mason usa poetry

Show Poem: “Love Attack” (KC, MO/ Harlings Upstairs/ 6-7-14)


Let’s stop fucking around and let’s start making love
Let’s stop beating people up with our beat, beat, beating hearts

Let’s stop pumping the world like it was a stalled car with an empty gas tank
Let’s stop blaming the ones who love us let’s star filling and fulfilling with hot air.
Let’s stop jabbing and shoving and kicking and screaming
Let’s start talking walking and hearing and kissing
What’s the point of pointless
What’s the point of engaging the bullshit
Unless there is something there to love?
And then let’s just love it.
You don’t have to be hard to be heard
You don’t have to be loud to get laid
Let’s take off our lampshades and  spend some time in the light together.
We can stop beating our chests
No one is having a heart attack here
Instead we could have a love attack
We could  make up a song right now called love attack that goes something like this:
Love attack. Ba ba
You hit me with a love attack.  Ba ba
We can start singing right now.
We can sing together
you don’t have to know the words.
Just sing
Ba ba
Love attack
You hit me with a…

Show Poem: 5/31/14 @ The Union of Westport (KC, MO)


Photo by Rachel Sky

Hot Suburban Summer
Drink cheap beer on the back porch
And when we get nice and loose we’ll make love on a plastic piece of lawn furniture.
Then we’ll wait for the rabbits to come
And we’ll watch them
But they don’t care
Just like we didn’t
Well maybe we cared a little.
But we just couldn’t help ourselves.
It’s that kind of a summer
Some might call it a crazy summer
But we know better
Nothing crazy about it
Just some healthy hot blooded suburban summertime activity
We’re not talkin’ some:  I don’t care if I die young bullshit
That’s crazy
I don’t wanna die young.
I wanna live long and slow and hot
Just like this sweet, sweet, sweet hot suburban summer
But still
It does something to you
That cold beer in your mouth
It goes straight to your head
It can make you do things

Show Poem: Wed. May 7th “Acoustic Mayhem” @ Davey’s Uptown (KC, MO)


photo by Rachel Sky

I’ve spent the last three days sweeping up thousands upon thousands of little helicopter seeds from the three soft maple trees around the back yard. The supply of these seeds seems endless.  I’m amazed at the idea probably not a single one will grow into tree. It reminds me of the millions of tiny sperms that I have wasted jerked off into into countless paper towels, tissues, old t-shirts and shower drains.

Anyone who says that nature is efficient and not wasteful is full of shit.
There used to be a book for everything
There used to be time for things
There was so much waste

How to
Write a poem
Think of something that could help people
There used to be a book for everything.

How to
Change a lightbulb
Stop nagging it about it’s future.
There used to be so much waste.

How to
Make an enemy for life.
Steal a person’s dreams.
There used to be time for things.

How to
Be happy
Learn to love the insanity
There used to be so much waste

How to
Help a blind man cross the road.
Put small bumps in the sidewalk
There used to be a book for everything

How to
Sleep comfortably on an air mattress
Do not over inflate
There used to be so much waste

How to
Manage a migraine headache while performing a rock show
Focus on your hands. Relax in the car until right before you have to go on. Do not
stare directly into the merch light.
There used to be time for things

How to
Get along with idiots.
Act like they’re hurt children
There used to be  so much waste

How to
Stay alive
Six 12 ounce glasses of water a day.

But there is no survival of the fittest when you’re a  soft elm helicopter seed in the suburbs of Shawnee Kansas. You’re  just the one in a million lucky bastard that hitches a ride on some yard waste trash truck and flies off into a nice warm, ditch somewhere on the way to the land fill.  A soggy fertile ditch just begging you to sprout and grow.