BRING OUT YOUR DEAD (LONDON PLAGUE PIT)

Stanley Mathew's Response to this news article.  If you're offended, screw off....

 http://www.cnn.com/2013/03/15/world/europe/uk-london-skeletons/index.html?hpt=hp_c1

Bring Out Your Dead

BUILD A NEW RAIL,

Uncover the BLACK DEATH,

They found a Plague Pit,

While digging mass transit,

London’s fucking calling,

The BUBONIC IS BACK. 

An out of work professors says there’s

50000 bodies buried

in what’s now called Farrington.

London’s Burning,

But now we know to blame the rat

And spare the cat.

It’s a motherfucking PLAGUE PIT.

On Friday they found 13,

Dig a little deeper,

Let’s put in an underground mall.

Pull out the bodies…
Call Dr. Who

And Sherlock Holmes

And Starbucks,

The archeologist needs some coffee.

We need entertainment.

Dig em’ up

Dig em’ up

Carbon Date and throw them in the channel,

They’re witches if they fucking sink.

Witch CORPSES In the MOTHERFUCKING PLAGUE PIT.

Bring out the dead.

Election of the new Magus Summum Part 1

I am a little obsessed with the whole pope-picking process.  I am not religious and have never been Catholic... but it all just seems so magical.  I feel like by changing a coupe words and none of the costumes I could be reading and watching some epic high fantasy.  In that spirit and all in fun:

This Just In,

Breaking News!

 

The chimney over the Pristine Chapel is releasing a white smoke into the starry Mediterranean Sky, indicating to the world that a new head wizard has been chosen.  The Chapel is known for its expansive depiction of the Spell of Creation, painted on the Chapel’s ceiling centuries ago by painter and summoner Michelangelo.  Usually it is a gathering place for pilgrims to make offerings and receive enchantments.  For the last 48 hours it has been the world’s most powerful and mysterious polling station.  Over the last several weeks, wizards of the order of Cardinalidae have been arriving at The Veneficus City to elect to a Magus Summum to lead them after the resignation of Magus Summum Dumbledorus XII. 

As many as 10,000,000 wizards, magicians, and powerless humans have descended upon the spellbinding Veneficus City and the ancient dwarven city of Rome in which it is nested.  Each of these pilgrims comes praying to witness both history and the future with one wave of a wand and the chanting of a few choice orsi opus or words of power. 

Soon, the Vox du Cardinalidae, Veneficus Spokeperson Cardinalidae Saltator of France, will step to the Pristine balcony overlooking the throngs gathered in the Veneficus square, cast a voice amplification spell, and announce to the world who the order has chosen to guide their order and lead humanity’s defense against Magus Malficus. 

The question on everyone’s mind is whom will they choose.  Will it be Cardinalidae Periporphyris, the confidant of Summum Dumbledorus?  Maybe they will look outside of Europa and choose someone from the United Norse Territories of Leaf.  Another popular option is Cardinalidae passerine of Southern Africa.  This would be seen as a move towards reform for the wizarding world.  However, the favorite appears to be Cardinalidae Rhodothraupis of Tropicalia.  He defends one of the few parts of the world where a strong faith in magic and old ways is not just present but growing.  Remember, that the Magus Summum could be anyone who believes in magic, however the election of someone outside of the Cadinalidae is exceedingly unlikely.

It is always said that real magic takes time, but it appears the time is coming in mere minutes.

 

Yelling

Screaming doesn't do any good and getting pissed is usually pointless.

To be read to this song

Yelling

The cumulative effect of yelling loudly at rocks stubbed toes flat tires dog shit cat pee rotten fruit spilled milk traffic bad radio limited warranties broken glasses bad coffee overflowing toilets awful drivers damn kids on your lawn to-do lists moles computer virus clutter dishes laundry broken spokes assholes diarrhea pop quizzes bosses faulty internet burnt toast the man taxes republicans skipping records ruined dinner allergies smokers hoboes commercials athlete’s salaries your salary corn syrup Justin Beiber new Saturday Night Live alarm clocks Mondays Wednesdays Sunday nights people crafty people crows attractive people the filing cabinet musicians batteries bad bikers calories skinny jeans money sold out events wasted food wine by the glass mark ups sexism racism classism fraternities hipsters hippies punks bros women men old people young people Christians Atheists Jews Muslims Communists Capitalists the sun rain snow home-ownership renting hot coffee cold coffee mild salsa spilled salsa stained sweaters dirty sheets stale chips head phones that only play in one ear the third world humane society commercials red hot chili pepper songs grammar spelling the education system America Europe math oxford commas me, and you is just a fowl mood, high blood pressure, a twitchy eye, and a ruined day.

I Don't Need Sleep

Revisiting a common theme.  Insomnia.

I don’t need sleep,

I just need to lie in bed,

Staring at the ceiling,

Listening to music all night,

Thinking about possibilities,

risks, the past and every person

I’ve ever accidently wronged.

If sleep is for the weak,

Obsessive reconsideration

of the past present and future

is for the concerned, introspective,

overanalyzing, deep thinkers.

I don’t need sleep,

I need a time machine

And a clinical trial on re-dos,

Make-ups and sneak-peaks.

Tonight you will be visited by

Three ghosts says a

haunting regret holding

a fresh pot of coffee:

Ghosts of Insomnia

Past, Present, Future

When the grey light finally

Comes through the window,

Announcing a rainy

Morning will I roll over

Or step out,

Let the rain soak my hair,

My clothes, and remember this

Is what it means to be alive?

I don’t need sleep,

I need nightly reminders

Of the context.

Switches

This one is about constantly feeling like you should be able to flip a switch and change things, when you should just slowly stumble forward till your eyes adjust and you're out of the dark.  It's not subtle.

Switches

Switches and dimmers line the darkened hall.

Some are old fashion on offs, pull chains hang

            Getting tangled in my hair.

I have four remote dimmer switch controls in

My pocket.  A few of the switches are lit.

I’m sure others are 3-way.

All these switches,

So easy to flip,

But the lights stay off.

Trying to find the right button,

            The right quick switch to hit,

Instead of just stumbling in the dark

Until your eyes adjust

And you make it outside.

Damn it feels good (to have the greatest dog in the world.)

 I think this is the first reference to my upcoming fatherhood I am posting here and I'm sure that fact is going to insert itself into more of my writing.

A Haiku

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Surprise! Baby Shirt

Surprise! Visit from a friend

This year will rock.

Another Haiku

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Irony Defense.

I don’t really like this song,

It’s just, uh, funny.

And a stream of consciousness about coffee and dogs.

 Damn it Feels Good (to have the greatest dog in the world)

 

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Damn it feels good to wear comfortable shoes, a flannel, and drink coffee as late afternoon fades slowly into early evening.  There are still tasks to be accomplished tonight like scrounging for dinner and washing my bulky sweater collection.  In this moment:  there is only frozen introspection and eyes caught by blinking streetlights.  I await a second wind that will carry me all of the way till bed, but for now, in this second, I transcend space and time.  Birds eye view watching myself type and sip, sip and type.  Closing my eyes hearing the sound of the keys and the sound of the coffee shop’s music selections.  There’s a group in the corner discussing the merits of our president’s Middle East policy.  Their engagement with the universe interrupts.

 I am fading to black…

… Coffee.  Refill.  I’m back for the moment.  My own opinions on the subject are stirring.  I could contribute.  I’m getting worked up.  No.  Breathe.  Look out the window again.  There are people walking their dogs on three of the four corners of the intersection I’m looking at.  Each person would swear their dog is the best.  I wonder if there really is a Best dog or if there is really just a best dog for a person, or for a moment?  Now reality sets in, I have to go home and walk the dog and feed the whole family.  The end of my musings is far from disheartening.  Reality is, I have the greatest dog in the world.

BIOGRAPHY-CORE

So this one is a little crass...

 

BIOGRAPHY-CORE

(by Stanley Mathews)

I’m going to start a band,

            And we are going to rock fucking hard.

Like Andrew WK on stilts, in a top hat, at a Green Day Concert with 5^th grade me in 1994.

But we’re not just any band.

            Nope.  Theme band.  No one has just a party anymore, so I’m not just starting a band.

We play keyboard-led-hardcore-punk-classic-rock BIOGRAPHY CORE and you can only see us if you have a Costco card.

WE GIVE OUT FREE SAMPLES OF ROCK over near the book department, behind the mom jeans. 

You can literally dine on our jams and you don’t have to risk scorching your mouth

With a microwaved hotpocket available on aisle nine in apocalypse family packs of 7300 in assorted flavors.  Enough for a family of four to each have one a day for five years….

But I digress,

            This is my band’s fucking press release.

And we are on a mission to rescue the art of the biography. 

            TRACK ONE:  Key of SCREAM

YOU DON’T WANT THE LIFE OF KIM KARDASIAN

YOU DON’T WANT THE LIFE OF SARA PALIN

YOU DON’T WANT YOUR DISCOUNT HARDCOVERS TO MAKE THE WORLD DUMBER.

BUY THIS BIOGRAPHY OF JOE STRUMMER.

THERE’S A THREE PAGE BOOK ABOUT ONE DIRECTION,

BUT UPON FURTHER INSPECTION…

IT SUCKS!

And that’s just a fucking taste. We are public servants, taxpayer funded like the Police (not sting) or the Navy (like the Village People)

Holiday season?  Why buy the biography of Will Ferrell when there’s an 826 page tome dedicated to John Adams?  Maybe a new book on Rosa Parks? Mark Twain?  We are here to warn you to slowly walk away from the illustrated life of Pat Robertson.

            TRACK TWO:  Key of GANG VOCALS

EVERYBODY LIKE’S HOLLYWOOD,

BUT BETTER BOOKS COME FROM BOLLYWOOD.

ORDER ONLINE BOLLYWOOD BIOGRAPHIES!

CULTERAL DIVERSITY

CULTERAL DIVERSITY

IN YOUR BIONGRAPHY 

IS BETTER THAN WHITE PAGES

ABOUT GILBERT GODFREY

(spoke quietly) even though I would read that one.

So come to COSTCO, we are there open to close all week.  IF you throw some money,

Or a 48 pack of Swiffer Dusters at us we may just play a request…about GIANT BOXES OF CHIPS (that I eat while I’m reading a biography of Queen Elizabeth)

BUT I’m not giving that one away here.  Fuck No.  Get down here now,

TO HAVE YOUR READING GLASSES ROCKED ON!

And stuff a stocking with the life and times of Bruce, Neil Young, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, Miles Davis, and FUCKING LINCOLN.

Step away from ASHTON KUTCHER’s Story…

            TRACK 3:  In the key of BARROOM BRAWL

EVERYTHING I LEARNED, I LEARNED FROM LINCOLN

EVERYTHING I KNOW, I KNOW FROM ABE,

SO HAVE A GLASS OF YELLOW TAIL,

AND TURN THE PAGE.

SPOILER:  HE GOES TO SEE A PLAY.