Things that Never Die

Things that Never Die

"Honey? Hun," waiting patiently for a response, "Honey?"

No response, just eyes on the road.

"Pull over," she demands

"I'm not pulling over," he says, finally breaking the silence.

"Just pull over."

"I am not pulling over."

"Pull over right now."

He looks out the window to his left, rolling his eyes, catching her reflection catching his. He pulls over- hazard lights blinking.

They sit in silence as she pulls down the clothed sun visor and flips up the mirror, light blinding her face. He watches her as she pulls out a tube of lipstick and carefully applies it to her lips.

"Parties over, put it away." He looks away again, how many times do you put on a face?

"I asked you a question back at the last turn and I expect a response," capping the lipstick and dropping it into her purse. The clasp clicking, he looks at the purse and then at her in non-response.

"I asked you a question," she repeats.

"I know you did."

"So?"

He looks out the window again.

"Stop looking out the fucking window, and answer the god damn question: what the hell do you see in her?"

"Jesus Christ," he murmured, "you're gonna wake Susan up." He checks the rear view mirror to see the kid's asleep.

"I don't care," speaking softer, " what do you see in her?"

Silence, so she starts again, "I don't know when I started to notice, but today it all started to click. The way you watch her."

He had watched her.

"The way you sometimes throw her name out in conversation."

He had mentioned her.

"So why can't you answer my question?"

"Because it's not a question you want answered."

"You pressured us all into going tonight, so the least I deserve is an answer. I look at you gawking at her just like everyone else and it makes me sick. I look around and see them all smiling forward at a little sweetheart and how do you think that makes me feel? You- looking at her like that?"

"Do you really want me to answer?"

She looks into the mirror and wipes the lipstick off her teeth.

"How long has that been there?"

"Do you really want me to answer?"

"I don't know, whatever... it's pointless now."

"Fuck, I can't take this. I'm sorry Edith I gave her my attention tonight, she's just the star of the show for fucks sake and a friend of mine, so I thought we'd show her a little bit of support. And Jesus, you always have to make these things about you."

"All I asked is do you think I could do that? Do you think if I had continued singing I could be up there? That I could be on that god damn stage."

"What do you want me to say Edith? That yes you could be a star? That yes if you'd have worked harder you could of made it? I'm not going to play these games."

Her reddening face looks out the window before she slowly, with care, pulls out each word, "I sit out there, and I see the lights- the colour, and the sound -the music, and I see the audience -when I look back, and I start to... -inside I wonder why I'm not up there, why I've wasted half my life, and where and what I've done. Where did it go Jerry?"

"I don't know Edith. Ask your daughter in the back seat."

She looks out the window again.

"Just drive me home."

He pulls the shift back into drive as he makes his way down the road again, high beams on. She leans back into the seat, resting her head against the glass , thinking to herself, an audience clapping in the background.

" I could have been. I just could have been."

-Matthew Koutzun


Wow, it's been some time since I've written a short story, so I hope you enjoy.

I Scattered These Eggshells (A Pro-fession in Prose)

I Scattered These Eggshells (A Pro-fession in Prose)

All at once came the time it happened. I, not holding back, told you it all. Told you you were wrong for all you had done for me, even though I could have just let it slide. Confused I continued on, pressing forward, ignorant to hear any form of reason. I wanted to see sides: my side and yours- as opposite. Me as good and you as wrong, though as we continue the line blurs each day.

I went so far to continue. To push on, to continue feeling something, anything, that would help me feel on top, above what had happened and give me leverage to any day these things would come back to haunt me. This haunts me, the field I've tossed you in full of bombs and bombardments of defense.

So crazy I was, you take no chances now in your speech with me. The invisible verbal bombs could take your life, or another 15 minutes of it, if you were to step out of line. You, frozen, in the middle of a football field. Us at either ends: good or wrong, wrong or good.

I scattered them, these eggshells, and I realize now that they don't hurt you, they protect you from me. They keep you at a distance, the one I want you at, but the one I don't want you at for long.

-Matthew Koutzun

All Stars Fade

All Stars Fade

The train is leaving
and you're the last to get on.
A hollering and coaxing
they tried to pull you back.
Bright beacons in the sky
they welcomed you
to return before you'd gone.

Supernova explosive
you sat in your seat,
your luggage below you
and the vibration sway
rocking you
and the glass of water
you got free
from concession.

Ripple in glass
and across milky way
you glanced out the window
out of your sway
to trees changing leaves
and buildings shifting space.

Off the train in a hurry
and to home
new it is
like a star being born
and smile breaking free
off the train in a hurry
to home
new it will be.

And days have come and gone
and moons phases pass again
the the systems rearranging
and the suns of home
old home
are still in sight.

That sun
that old sun
that old star
on the track
you feel only goes one way
that sun
that star
that old star
it never fades
like the new ones can and do.

-Matthew Koutzun

In the Crowd After the Show

In the Crowd After the Show

Exasperation from the crowd-
"It's an honest work from a dishonest man- however to distill?"
"It's dramatics are silent- let's take this moment in remembrance of the horror sounds"
"What say you tortured soul?"
" ."
"Quite full of exuberance you are indeed!"

-Matthew Koutzun

What you can Expect

What you can Expect

You can expect
a tyrant
a torrential down pour storm
a hurricane
a tropical typoon of massive proportion
a twisted tornado uplifting your home
a maytre stamped of bufflo off the cliffs to you below.

And why?
What did you expect?

-Matthew Koutzun

Thinking of Things to do Near You

Thinking of Things to do Near You

I'm thinking of things to do near you,
since I don't know what to say.
My work done,
I try to think of more to do
so I can chance conversation again.

Thinking of things to do near you is hard
when my mind is preoccupied
with what I'd rather say
and the things I do say sound impeccably ridiculous
misogynistic and down right dastardly.

Thinking of things to do near you
is taking all my time,
not that I mind it
it's just it'd be better spent being with you
than just thinking.

But thinking of things to do near you
is fine just right now
because once I've thought of something
and I think I'll think of something soon
I'll be doing it there near you.

-Matthew Koutzun


Re-reading this I realize that this is either really sweet or really creepy. Take your pick- haha.

The Lion went Silent

The Lion went Silent

The red raging lion
went silent.
It's roar used to be heard for miles
and jungle vine would shudder in vibration,
and birds would nestle closer in communion,
and monkeys sleeping
would absentmindedly clutch their tails in intimidation.

The lion used to roar so much
calling to a find mate on the edge of the field.
He would call an uproarious howl of fame
and moments later, one day, came back the same.

The red raging lion
waited silent.
It roared and a lover should come a calling
through the jungle vines they would tatter
through the trees where birds nestle would scatter
and awake the monkeys
in a frenzy of seduction patter.

But no lover came for the red great lion.
Hunters would have come already
for the rare prize he was.
But being fair, he tried again just because.

So the red raging lion
roared again.
It roared louder than before with great vibrato.
That jungle vines did tatter
and nestled birds did scatter
and the awakened monkeys
did frenzy-

but no seduction patter.

And to the red lion came the soft roar again
across the jungle, near some edge.
And he thought perhaps this is a game
and I should go to her, all the same.

And the red raging lion
walked through the trees.
But it was quite the lonely walk indeed.
Jungle vines laid in tatters on the ground.
The sounds of lilting nestled birds could not be found.
And awakened monkeys
moved away, did not lounge.

The lion humbled came to the end,
where he did come to find an edge.
And he roared out to find his mate
and moments later- his answer imitate.

And the red raging lion
walked back.
Though vine,
and nest,
and home.
The red raging lion
went silent.

-Matthew Koutzun

When I go to Someplace Hollow -or- In the Old Oak that Drops Forever

When I go to Someplace Hollow
-or-
In the Old Oak that Drops Forever

In someplace hollow
the air is dry
it is still
and dark
and even the smallest things don't grow.
Someplace hollow
germs do not exist
there is nothing in the air
void of all and nothing
someplace hollow is a hole.
The more you put in
the more it takes out
and things have trouble finding ground
with nothing to hold onto
the walls stretching further with each grasp.
Forever in a fall
and black all around
close your eyes
and jump up right now
and pretend you're suspended in mid-air.
Because falling doesn't feel like falling
once you've experienced it for sometime
like swimming still
in stale stagnant
water.
You have lots of time here
in this someplace hollow
deepening around you
it's hard to remember
how small it was when it started.

-Matthew Koutzun