Week 47 – Celebration #2

Gearing up for the Weekend

Man, we cranked the tunes!

Working through the week, the shop gets a little crazy on Friday!

It starts with those crazy chicken breakfast biscuits that the boss brings in,

Then he turns on some funky-ass music from the 70s!

Most of the guys are older than me, so they tell me all the time at lunch about the wild concerts they saw before they had kids.

Man, talk about wild shit!

By the time four o’clock rolls around, the guys have been yelling stories about Led Zeppelin, and the old man brings in all of his Zepp CDs.

One by one the guys play their faves, but the best one is the last song of the day – “Celebration Day”.

By the time we bust out of the joint, we are fired up and ready for a weekend full of beer and whiskey!



Matt’s newest release – “Experimental Archaeology: A Writer’s Remains” – is available in time for the 2017 holiday season!

Unearth the softcover and Kindle versions of Matt’s poetry and writing at Amazon (find it here)! Want an autographed copy instead? See below!

Autographed Copies

Get personally autographed copies of Matt’s books! Simply  click the box below, find the desired title, and click “Buy Now”! All prices include standard USPS shipping.

NOTE: Publisher and shipment delays may occur during the holidays – order early to ensure your copies arrive in time for Christmas!

Attention! If you want the book signed for someone other than yourself, please mention it in your order, or e-mail Matt at mattc2k3@yahoo.com.


As a special bonus, each order of an autographed book will receive a free PDF copy of Matt’s essay, “Being Human” – currently unavailable except through this offer! The essay will arrive in your e-mail box!


Week 47 – Celebration #1

Festival de Equinox

You could feel the expectation in the air.

The warm, soupy summer slowly turned cooler, more people friendly,

The night of the vernal equinox was the perfect night for a celebration.

And boy howdy, celebrate we did!

All day long, the empty 8-foot tables began to fill with food, food, food, wine, and tequila.

The end of summer garden delights were presented with care.

Soon, the music began. The ragingly awesome guitar riffs of Joe Walsh welcomed the partiers.

After Joe Walsh sang about life being good (so far!), someone turned on Los Lobos, who rocked the rest of the night.

The hot food came out – tamales, tacos with fixins, carnitas, cheese, more cheese.

The mental supplementals came out – the guac, the salsa, chips, hot sauce, and more hot sauce.

It was dizzying, yet just the smell had peoples’ mouths watering!

Beer flowed like tequila. Tequila flowed like water.

It was heaven on earth, and hell was raised.

It was like cinco de Mayo on the 22nd of September.

When the party organically started dying down, there was a dulling of the festivities to match the dulling of the senses.

Drinks flowed slower. Food grew crusty.

There was a declaration of the celebration moratorium as the question mark on the flyer leaned towards 3am.

People stumbled and bumbled back to their residences, and lights went out on porches.

Though the hum of the party died out, there were still pockets where you could still hear the buzz – and two or three voices singing shouts of “Tequila” as quietly as a roaring moose.

Week 46 – Color #2

Too Awake

I hated to close my eyes

I hated to lose the vision

Of daylight and daybreak

The fine line between dark and light

I hated to lay down my head to sleep

To lose the vibe of the day

I could no longer function

I couldn’t breathe

There was a lack of color and my head swam

I needed to rest

I needed to relax

Sleep, precious sleep.

Week 45 – Vault #2


The desks are empty – it’s 5:01pm.

Paper lays about,  the electric charge of activity still hangs in the air.

Out in the parking lot, cars stream onto the road

The joy on faces in anticipation of getting home…

The vaults are empty, and the janitors aren’t due for another hour.

But it’s friday, and the bank is closed.

Week 45 – Vault #1

South Shore

I sit on the beach with my toes in the sand,

The breeze from the ocean brings the salty smell of paradise.

I smile, and take a long cool sip of my margarita.

I was lost in the moment, and filed it away in the vault of my memory.

I come back here often when my day is stressful, or crappy,

Or when I need some motivation to create.

It’s a great reminder of joy and comfort,

Remembering the feel of the sun on my face.

Week 44 – Card #2

You and Me

Jeff was funny. He was a card.

Bob told stories. He was a bard.

Donna loved sports. She was a jock.

Kim told time just like a clock.

Frank sang songs. He was a singer.

Dan played hockey. He was a winger.

Cori cried a lot. She was a weeper.

Helen was cool. She was a keeper.

People are people. They are weird.

They are hated. They are revered.

They love. They hate.

They’re single. They date.

They are you. They are me.

They want to live the dream.

While we struggle. While we argue.

While we spite and throw our shoes.

We’re so much alike, just the same.

Yet we spit at each other, it’s such a shame.

Week 44 – Card #1

The Leap

Sitting at the foot of her bed, she wept crocodile tears.

The damp letter sat beside her. Ink spread in the water.

“Dear Angie,” it said, “I can’t do this anymore…”

It was at that point that her stomach tightened.

He throat felt like a noose.

Her face flushed.

She knew it was because of the card.

She had told him she loved him, even though she knew he wasn’t ready.

He was like a frightened deer in the headlights, yet she sent the card anyway.

At 30 years old, she stood at the edge looking down.

She didn’t see a way out, so she trusted that God knew what was best.

She jumped.

And by trusting in the universe, she found that she could navigate the waters of temporary depression.

By jumping, she embraced her future.

And she started to learn how to stop her destructive tendencies.

She met herself again.

And they became good friends.

It wouldn’t be long before she was in another relationship.

She would have a better understanding of his needs,

She would give him his space,

And she would be rewarded.

Week 43 – Time #2

Tightened Down and Frowny

“Hello,” I said, smiling.

“I don’t have time!” She rushed past.

“Fuck you,” my ego replied.

The sour taste in my mind tasted more bitter with each moment.

My face screwed down tight.

My eyes narrowed.

“Hello!” She said, smiling.

Moving quickly past, I grunted.

The sour taste in her mind grew more and more nasty.

When she got home, her daughter ran to her,

But she was too frowny to smile.

Such a shame. A damn shame.