Tag Archives: Matt Roth

Show Poem: Imperfect dance moves do not exist… Mon. April 21 / Kansas City / Vacant Farm #Schwervonpoetry

Posted on April 22, 2015 by | 1 comment

Breakfast crunch wrap
A dump in the oven
Pay no attention to the angry
Monkey sitting on my face
I love to give her pleasure so
There is a sadness stuck
Between layers
Fresh Logo designs and
Free napkins will not
Stop the bleeding
Discovery is not enough
Moment to moment is a way
There is a carpet
In front of the drink station
So no one slips and falls
The sky is a commode
Our mature lungs filter the pot air
We pop the cork on our own waste
Neglect is
Easy
There is a place for the lids
There’s is a place for the straws
There are crumbs under the table
There is still some water to drink
We enjoy learning new words
Imperfect dance moves  do not exist
We grab branches
Are branches
Branching
Up

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Baseball diamonds in the rough… Sat. April 11 / Kirby’s Beer Store / Wichita, Kansas #Schwervonpoetry

Posted on April 13, 2015 by | 1 comment


Paradise Lost virginity
In a church parking lot

I wasn’t worried about
Where to hide my gun

Baseball diamonds in the rough

Forgotten plots of genius
Dead things on the side of the road

Smoke through bullet holes
Snacks that don’t make you
Hate yourself

Golden hills burnt black
Billboard bushes
And fast food tumbleweeds

The birds returning
Bridge NO. 68.451

WHITEWATER RIVER
All caps, Helvetia, green background

Half of the sky is gray
And the other half is white

Beating things down
Blowing things up

At this moment
None hurt my head

(This poem was recited for the first time on Saturday, April 11, 2015 at Kirby’s Beer Store, in Wichita, KS)

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The scariest ones are the scarredest… Sat.March, 21 / JR’s Lightbulb, Fayetteville, AR, #Schwervonpoetry 

Posted on March 22, 2015 by | 1 comment

image

Fish in a fish tank
Fish on a plate
Fish in the bathtub
Swimming all around me

Playing by the crooked rules
No wires, no hooks,
And no digging straps

Documentary film making at it’s best
Sitting back
Riding the road
Taking the turns
Swinging from the trees
Not beating the shit out of things

Junk yard wrecking crew
Pull gently and push rigorously
The dogs are afraid of me
Until they get used to my scent

Everything feels so expensive
In chilly evenings
Things get colder
And more beautiful

Connect the spots on the sidewalk
Follow the pathetic that
Reveals itself to you
And
Always remember
The scariest ones are the scarredest

Sometimes the best
Conversations at parties
Are with the lampshade.
And the cat

(This poem was recited for the first time on Saturday, March 21, 2015 at JR’s Lightbulb in Fayetteville, AR)

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