Monday, August 24, 2015

LET IT RAIN OVER ME

Poetry can be found in strip clubs, too...



LET IT RAIN OVER ME
by matt burns

It’s my fourth time being at this club
But I’ve never experienced anything like this
It’s probably about midnight
I have a really good buzz going
And I mustered up the confidence
To sit down
Right by the main stage
Bottle of Budweiser in hand

I take out my one, crinkly dollar bill
And hold it in my hand
I wave it around a bit
I still don’t know what the proper procedure is
Maybe the dancer will come over to me
But, if not, that’s cool, too
I don’t really care for her too much
Her body is nice
But her face looks a little plastic
She must have gotten old
Panicked
And had some surgery done

More men come down and sit around the main stage
I realize they’re all black
And I’m the only white dude
I know I’m out of place
But the booze makes me not care

More men
All black
And more men
All black
Sit and others surround the stage standing
I don’t even know where they came from
It was kind of dead a while ago
But all these black men came out of nowhere
Like they just pulled up in a caravan of nice cars
Rushed the place
And they look really clean and neat, very well-dressed
They have tons of money
They keep throwing down ones

Two songs in and the girl is fully naked
She does very good tricks on the stripper pole
There’s some sinister-sounding rap song blasting
Something about waking up in a new Bugatti
And then some other song about a Trophy Wife
A black man appears to my left
He steps forward
He takes out a stack of ones
He starts dealing them out on the stage like they’re cards
A waterfall of bills covers the stripper’s ass in green
The other men sitting around the stage throw more ones her way
Then other men come up from behind me
They throw a huge stack of ones high into the air
And the bills rain onto the stage
Another man steps forward and throws his stack of twenty
Then there’s a man who runs by and throws the ones like a grenade
It’s raining bills all over the place
Dollar bill confetti

I’m so impressed
It’s truly beautiful
It’s not depressing
You would think it would be depressing, these men throwing bills at a naked chick
But it’s not
I find it to be beautiful art
The music blasting
Powerful bass pounding
And pounding
Pa-pa
Pounding
And then with the nice buzz
Sitting under the rain of money
It’s an experience like none other

It was like some gang just rolled in for about ten minutes
Maybe they were from Boston
Or possibly Brockton
And they bombed the stage with a bunch of dollar bills
And then got the hell out of there
Like that was their thing they liked to do
Go to the club
Stay for one performance
Dump stacks of ones
And then bounce

If this was a gang
I want to be part of this gang
It is so cool
So much style
So beautiful
So
Sa-so
Impressive

If it’s drug money
I want to deal drugs
And be in a gang
And have a bunch of money
That I literally throw around
Like I have so much I don’t care
I want to be these beautiful, well-dressed black men
And create their beautiful visual art
It's the devil's art
But who said the devil's art couldn't be beautiful in its own way?
I want to be part of their ritual
Throwing this money like they just don’t care
Tonight I don’t want to be white
I want to be black and in their gang

Monday, August 3, 2015

THIS WOULD BE THE SOUNDTRACK TO MY DAY IF IT WAS A GOOD DAY



THIS WOULD BE THE SOUNDTRACK TO MY DAY IF IT WAS A GOOD DAY
by matt burns

Jefferson Starship
Jane
It makes me want to rock
It fills me with adrenaline
There's only one thing missing from this:
A good day
I really just wish something good happened today
Not that it was a shit-heap or anything
It was just uneventful
Yet, I stumbled upon this song today
And there was nothing going on to play it to
If only it was a good day
This song would be the perfect soundtrack for it

A COMET THAT'S BURNT OUT


A COMET THAT'S BURNT OUT
by matt burns

I want to keep going
And there is some fuel here and there
Maybe if I rock my tank from side to side there's more
But let's face it
I'm not the comet I used to be
I have very little gas left
Very little
And no matter how hard I fight it
I'm burnt out, man
I'm burnt out

But I've said this before
This is a long road
No gas station for miles
But one will inevitably come
And I'll get a full tank again
Damn, I'm mixing metaphors here
Comet or car?
Choose one
Shit