Quite Simply an Ordinary Day

Okay, now you are bitchin' about the drinkin' and the writin'. Let me be a hero for thirty seconds. I went to work (on my only day off) after church that is, where I singlehandedly brought the age of the congregation down by 10 years. Then I got in a car accident on my way to by my dad a present, but it is neither a holiday nor his birthday. Then I kicked f#$%^&g @$$ on an ice rink against the best team in the league to keep us undefeated. So now, after three beers after the game, half a bottle a wine, and now I am drinking Scotch STRAIGHT from an F#$%^g bottle because that is what my favorite authors Haruki Murakami does and Raymond Fucking Carver did (someone once willed me a grave between him and his living wife Tess Gallager, side note) so in great honor of the drunk poets, as the Brits say, I AM B100DY PISSED! So he is a poem, composed drunk of my fat keister, just for you are ears ( and i know i am going to someone feel really wierd toomorow. So if you need a hero either count me in, or pass me off as a raving drunk.

Lots of Drunk Love,
Hadji aka Matt

Poem

It is Coming.

Really, like the second coming, by Auden that is.

I think is was Auden But I am not sure now,
but what I do know is that I am on my third scotch
and that most girls either
think I am a cute intellectual
or a solipsistic jerk. Either
way I am a happy drunk,
until the dude who surfs,
(how do you act cool
when you surf on Lake
Michigan) makes out
with the girl I love
so now I am brokenhearted
in that "Hope College sophmore
I don't care I still made out with you"
kind of way, like cookies,
or that is what my youth paster
called it (ya know,
it) or at least some thing
like it, but is wasent it
so I can hardly call it it
but in Wyckoff Hall, it didn't matter,
anything that resenbled it, was, well
you know, it. Like going out to coffee.

But if she orders a moo at JPs, forget it,
especially when she wins the songboy auction
and gets you for a dollar, cheaap,
or even holding hands in chapel,
its out of the question. But you can
still do your homework together.

But then you graduate and a few years
later, you like in a big city (or more
likely a suburb of one) and you do like
Kerouac prodicted, we live in houses
and just watch TV all day and forget
that SOMA and IT like in "Brave New World"
ever even existed more like "Drunk Old World"

(did I ever tell you drunk poets
that i live only two miles from a bar where Kerouac,
Cassidy, and Ginsberg used to get drunk? I do, cause Kerouac Married
this chick from my hometown and they got devorsed after
like three weeks or something, which is kinda like
how I quit my job to stay in vienna for three weeks longer,
(really long story by the way))

So anywhay, I guess
we were at the part where we are playing darts
in this old bar where Kerouac and Ginsberg
used to get drunk like we do, and from
the local arcavist, I figured out which booth
those Beat poets drank at, so now
we drink there too,
and we play darts there
like it was going out of style,
and now we are approached
by some self-proclaimed avante-garde
girls from Grosse Pointe (where everything
desearves and extra "E", like "sex E") but we pair up to play darts
like it was as cool as the old
days,

but we didn't really care about darts,
it was just an excuse to make passes
like a bimmer on lakeshore,
and so we did,
and so we did,
like making passes,
was going out of style,
and so we did.