Virgin Wrecker

Virgin Wrecker

When I heard your voice on the machine

I knew I made a mistake

being at work

and missing your call.

It was that voice carrying me back to a time when the world was constantly ending in my mind

but look at me here

hearing the end of it again.

God, I missed you-

Well to be fair the feeling just hit me now.

Had I not heard your voice I kinda wonder if I'd still be so struck.

But I did and I can't believe that we still share something 

after time and distance.

Can you believe we shared something

that we share something still-

and it makes me think back to the days when the world was constantly ending in my mind

knowing it continues on with you

hearing some memory of a start.

Now pick up the god damn phone

cause I can only dial this number so many times

and drunkenly laugh that you're engaged-

some conquest conquerer you were.

But I guess you succeeded.

And there is nothing but a proud beat

trouncing it's way through me like a fish returning home

to bare what we left to bore.

And I'm thinking back to the days when the world was constantly ending in my mind

and we laid in bed 

you tiptoeing your fingers over me

some sun dashing behind us

and I was finally able to be naked with someone for the first time without any nervousness

which was a pretty big deal at the time I'll let you know

I'm still a shy pee-er.

But it was the ease of it all.

Knowing that there was a start there that would soon have to end

learning that many worlds are constantly ending all the time.

Knowing that there was something between us during a time and a place

and having that tucked away for myself for my personal end of the worlds

which I wonder if you have tucked away for yourself too.

So I'm struck here again.

plucking at some invisible phone cord

waiting for a ringing to be answered

and to hear a voice to end a thought

and start a new.

-Matthew Koutzun

I gotta hunch

Hunch

The day began like a slump.

High posture with expectation

and then low as heads dropped

motivation collapsing like a lazy spine.

Sat in a chair all day and felt it happen

turning from a young truant

to a blistering old hunched hag.

Got some work done,

but not much.

Had something to eat

but it was pretty bland.

Watch a good show,

but it's season nearly over.

And what did the day get me?

not much.  Just  greyed out sky

and foggy streets out my window

that have plagued the city for at least four days

which I'd rather be in 

but have no care to really explore.

And now it's the end of the day

already in the start of another

because this motivation thing still hasn't become my muse

and the bed's pretty far away.

But I got work in the morning and it's gonna be a bad one

without any sleep.

Who knows.

-Matthew Koutzun

Covert

Covert

I'm not the enemy.
And this is not deception.
This is not a mask I wear
to brave the hardships of war.
I do not skulk in the shadows
since it was you who found me
speaking on a box
handing out my words.

That's just what a spy in our midst would say.

How can I tell you
we are one and the same
on the other side of this fence
are those just like you?
There is not the divide
there once was 
and that further along
it's shorter and even not.

That's not how I have seen the world and your view is theirs.

I do not switch sides for gains
because the truth is everyone has lied
in one giant conspiracy
hiding the open field.
I've been running through the glass
others put up
while everyone else stopped
tired of bumping into what once was there.

I'm touching it and it will not budge.

I'm touching it now, and thinking I might break through.

-Matthew Koutzun

Big Sigh

Big Sigh

I can only do so many of these
before I have to stop out of pure embarrassment.

Big signs
but I don't know if I'm making them large enough
or if you're seeing them but making concerted efforts to ignore them.

I've been making them for sometime
that it now feels forced so I'll continue till maybe one stops you.

Man, that was pathetic exhaling all that breath
hoping you'd exhale yours.

Gonna breathe in real deep now
and hopefully some of it will get to my brain.

So I can smarten up
and maybe--

you've shown me something- a distraction.
Maybe you were listening.

-Matthew Koutzun

Tiny Moth

Tiny Moth

You crept in,
through the kitchen window
as I sat in a chair working away.

Darting past my eyes I could only see a blur
and you looked nothing of your dark splendour.

Floating
mostly falling
barely keeping float on wind.

Tired wings half fighting fall
but embracing touchdown relief.

The window's open
but I won't force you out
there is a quiet refuge here for you.

Looking back at my work and burning eyes
tiny moth I know what weight can keep wings moving.

-Matthew Koutzun

For Your Reconsideration;

For Your Reconsideration;


You sir,
are a mythical man.


I can only rely on the things of lore to guide me.
I can only trust the things I believe to be;
things I half imagine to fill the variable x's with.


I am crippled at the base summit-
not knowing why I have such hesitation.
I am at ease with such peaked ranges
but such velocity and cliff warnings
and the guide trails that are faded
hint a fear inside me I cannot grasp.


I have no reason for this
no fact or facet
to prove such fiction
but I'm in it
and wondering if it indeed
is much tamer than the truth.


I'm beating around you-
you on fire,
and sprinkling water at your edges
maybe taking a dart in for a quick wisp
to catch a whisper of your truth.


I want to stand beside
you sir.


I want to have you know
I fight the good fight like no other
and wield a weapon mightier
than any blade
cause' it is a cause of compassion
that complies wrong's defeat.


If I had the courage to slice it off, I would sir.
To grow fatty in places you wished, I would sir.
If I could leave the flesh and just be incarnate, I would sir.
And if your boy would still take me, I would sir.


I cannot change the vessel,
and I will not change the contents.
I am not misshapen
and I am not empty.
I am beholden beautiful by he you bore.


You sir,
you don't even know who you are sir.
You do not know the instance you stir.
The respect you command
the action you halt
the winds you cease
and the boy you bore bind.


I ask sir,
please recognize
please consider
please console
please deliver
please release
please include
please just please for me
because I cannot bind my heart
and I cannot will it shut
when it parts an uncontrollable smile to my lips
when my eyes meet his eyes
and his words cajole such laughs from my sides.
Please sir, please
please reconsider.


-Matthew Koutzun

Leather Stud Princess

Leather Stud Princess


Hun,
walking the streets
you're wearing him on your eyes.
Tearing names down
as you pound pavement
your fisted wrists upturned.


Not even the leather hide on your back
is gonna keep your skin strong.
No piercing is gonna produce a pain so long
to numb the thudding beat of your song.
And no image stained on skin
is gonna grant eternity.
So you're gonna get your food
and lounge in the booth in the back that's free.


Watch out baby,
you know it's a public place.
Wearing a man so clearly on your face.
You're scaring strangers
willing to take you home
scaring yourself
on a lack of control.


Hun,
pick at your food
pass out this time.
They'll call the cops
and string you up
just for the night.


"Wake up baby boy,"
Frank whispers in your ear
funny thing
it's the one thing you've longed to hear.
Scruffy arm around you
and hot breath on neck
maybe he'll marry you
as his ring finger you check.


Darling
walk home,
after the police let you free.
Clean up your face
hang up your leathers
and baby just breathe.


Hun,
take your shower
wash the dye from your face.
Hang up the jacket
he stole for you
just for one night.


-Matthew Koutzun

Burnouts

Burnouts


I pull my fingers to my mouth
trying to suck the pain from the burn
applied by the stove.


Pulling it out
looking paste the saliva shine
at the milky red spot.


I taste it again.
Usually I would taste salt
but now it's just chicken limp in the pan.


I drifted into the thought again
of the sliding wheel.


I'm gonna season this more,
cause I'm tired of not tasting anything
and the dry taste of nothing in my mouth.


I forgot to set the salad in the fridge
and the greens are soggy
and the peeled apples a tinge of brown.


The timer is failing
braking to long past it's stop.


I'm on the phone with mom again
and breasts are burning on the stove again
cause I just can't bring myself to stop.


I'm banging my head on the wall
waiting for a firm seat rest to bang back.


And it's a burned dinner for one again tonight.


-Matthew Koutzun

Formations

Formations


Clay at feet
take my formations.
Set in moist stone
a path I've trod.
Let it take a sign
one that marks my name.


Sun dry and set
make it last.
Toss rain aside
and make a desert.
Crack and hold
formations firm.


Nothing may grow here.
Just the way I like it.
It is mine.


What fear is this
forgotten?
I run the path
running.
But perhaps you've
caught up.


-Matthew Koutzun

till

till


looking up at the sagging skin
i have to wonder where the feelings still come from
every bit of you jiggles and hardly holds it's shape like it did before
as you gyrate on top of me
spots on once smooth skin
and a toothy smile yellowed from those old chocolate flavoured cigarettes you used to love


a patch of dry skin on your elbows
i swear it was all that time on your knees that they're as roughed up as they are now
i wonder if you think i'm impotent as my dick goes soft
and you knead it till it aches because i just don't have the care to stop you


the years have crept by and still i fain at the thought
that one day
any day
this could be gone


all the trying
all the pleasing
all the laughter of our bodies just not able to go on


our bodies just are not able to go on


and our bodes are not able to go on


and one of us won't go on


and what then


what will this body have
but the idea of you on me
skin lifted
and marrow escaped


i can't fuck ghosts
and i haven't been fucking flesh these last 30 years
but somewhere in-between
is the place i loved you


-Matthew Koutzun

Flush

Flush


The cool emptiness and tingle of the blood escaping the face,
downward pull to pit and collapsing embrace of upturning.


Clawing and wrapping anything around to hold and meld.


Heat wandering, and cold welcoming itself indoors
windows barred and curtains drawing darkness covers.


Missed hours and hair disheveled waking weak and hungry.


Hunger pains and lazy limbs can't shake and bake tonight.
Gonna eat through the dial and talk me some take out.


Almost done a dish, fork heavy, best to sleep it off again.


-Matthew Koutzun

Western Slinger Makes a Home


Never received a letter from you Shirley
till the one I got today.
Thought it was strange it coming this late
and after all the ones I sent
and left on the posts here
if you were to look to find me.
You left something short
and not much about our child.
Something in me says he or perhaps she
didn't have long in this world.
I've made a home now.
Not like the one you'd expect:
with a wife and wee ones.
I've come to live here alone
waking with the sun
and working
on the land and on myself.
After the first days I bought a mirror
and never did I see a fright.
I was god awful and wondered how you loved this man
and I shaved and cleaned these clothes.
Still trying to learn to sew
but that was always woman's work
till now.
I don't know if your heart's finally gone soft
or if your trying to soften my fall
but I won't make wanton and beg.
The sun is up early again tomorrow
and I've alright said my goodnights.
So it's best I sleep now and save this for a better time to send.


-Matthew Koutzun


To the man I walk forwards backwards for.


Continuation from:
Western Slinger Walking Backwards

Duvet

Duvet

and the sheets trailed after

pouring down the side of the bed

and splashing to the floor below

kicking and tangled

pulled down beneath them

gasping impact half swallowed

air lacking but abundant

and under bed and across floor

sheets puddle moist contact.

and the tide brought you back

knotting tender skin binding

burning friction on bounding

and covered thread on decency kept

drag us under post and bed frame

let its shadow create day for night

and tangled duvets heat hot

and cotton wick body sweat.

Drench and hold close

holding breath 

cause too bare

and wood panel pressed on back

cool clutch

cheek to surface

gonna whisper in your ear

tell you that your brow belongs there too

face down

we’re gonna take you

slipping sliding

and entangled

emerging to nightfall

returning out above

windows all open

gonna keep it fresh

keep the lights low

and tidy sheets again.

-Matthew Koutzun

Hope in the Prostitute Den

Hope in the Prostitute Den


Again
I've gone off to look for you
in places that won't hold.
Watching to see if I can inspect footprint
on carbon
with what might say you're here.


I went to the bordello to look for you
wanted to see if you frequented
those creatures.
Half brave
and fully nervous
if you see me you'll think the same of myself.


Maybe we're just bumbling here
hoping to catch each other
in some act
desperately trapeze-ing
to cross the boundaries we've created
with our pride.


I tried before
but it only wore each thread
and now I wonder
if your unwillingness to
commit again
is what holds the sword.


Great man on rope so high
wavering with large knife
and on threads too thin
I've set the ground beneath you
and moved mountain to raise it as well
so you may step down with me.


-Matthew Koutzun

That Empty Lot on Cedar

That Empty Lot on Cedar


Guess you've left town.
The place you lived in is gone now too.


The shed in the back is the only thing left standing
and all the tools and paraphernalia too.


You left the kid's swimming pool.
And my bike.

The only thing of real value you left behind.

Dust just creeping over them.

Water from the ceiling pooling in the kiddy pool base.
Sludge rippling as I give it a tiny nudge.


The rest of the building is gone.
Don't know why they had to take it down.


Neighbours don't recall you leaving.
No van, movers,  forwarding address.


The one on the left has a box of bills and flyers that piled up.
She said she'd give it to me if only she could remember me.
I left it, no use paying for things of something long gone.


The only thing of real value I left behind.


She had her dog tied up in the back.
Right on our property.


I was so pissed off that she had that fucker
shiting and pissing on our lawn.


Then realized that
hell, this place isn't ours no more.
Not mine nor was yours shortly after.


The only thing of real value we left behind.


I traced out the lines of the foundation
as the dog barked at me.


Told that woman to take it indoors
but she just ignored me and left the porch indoors herself.


Looking at it again I wish we'd had a basement.
Grown a root cellar or something.
To keep it down.


Some where to hide when the shit came down.


The light is half burnt out on the left side of the street.
Decided to stay here till nightfall.


Packed some sandwiches and a beer.
A few juice boxes too since I have to drive back.


It's just around the corner
but it seems like forever since I've come here
since moving back.


The only thing of real value I could really remember.


Damn, most of these people's houses need residing.
paint's all chipped and weathered.


Thank god we moved.
If only I could remember where I misplaced you.


-Matthew Koutzun