Matt Waters is a singer-songwriter from New York City. His songs range from character studies of the contemporary American to intimate explorations of love. A writer of fiction, he attempts to meld the musical and literary realms through detailed lyricism. He has been particularly inspired by the li…
A touch of the tragic May be conducive to magic But it's a rock in the shoe Of ordinary life Never wanted it to happen Our branch bent before snapping Saw reality as an anomaly As our little tree struggled in the strife Upon the polished bar-slab Rests an old head who can't pay his tab While his pocket chimes, a music box The last gift from his wife Well, life may be short I may be numb My country is Governed by a gun Hey, maybe it's simple Maybe its not I could not work The way that you want If there's a god If you're a friend If there's a story With an end I won't forget When things were good I'll someday figure out What I never understood Plinking my night symphonies The Detective wants his car keys Originals and standards No spotlight Couldn't learn how to quit Months before you split Should've held you harder After that last flight Your father offered a good job And my pursuit's run by the mob Why not grow-up, own property And bow out from a rigged fight? The sound of the keys Sends me, sends me The sound of the keys Sends me, sends me It was a lot like your touch Leaves me, leaves me A lot like your touch Upon me, upon me A sanctuary from the snow Where I know, I know A sanctuary from the snow From the melting The sound of the keys Was the only thing, the only thing That noticed me Noticed me The sound of the keys Noticed me Before you Before you Before you
Originally written in 2017, 'Usually' was inspired by a line in one of my unpublished novels. "I usually run," the character said, and this song seemed to blossom all-at-once from a simple consideration of what that line meant to that character. Ultimately the people we love are the people for which we eschew 'usually.'
Originally written in 2018, this is a song that makes me feel like a count in a castle. Partially inspired by classic American literature and the emptiness of solitary evenings.
The live debut of a more recently written track, 'Intruder.'
World War Pain My body at the break of dawn Always obeys the first alarm I do what I'm told these days Sometimes I feel I'll give out The mask gets heavy and I could pass out Finally found a gig that pays Nobody's involved or wants the job We can't elect a new god While still hauling biblical names World War pain They teach us to be sane When I train my sights on you It's me being free World War pain What's your favorite game? If you shoot me through the forehead Would you wonder what I dreamed? We're each other's targets tonight Only one will see the sunlight Seem to bless his lover's eyes We don't bother with questioning null Our local car was totally full Of political hacks parroting lies Do you also have empty night streets? Where distant traffic hums sweet relief From the vengeance born in our minds World War pain Has nothing to do with shame That's for civilian life, where it is Essential to forgive World War pain Did you cauterize with flame? I wasted a second wondering If we'd let each other live
It always starts with love Before the reality of hate Neon halo over your head Under the fire escape The night's grown late And our ambition turned to mud The purity of your intention Ending with a sniffed-up drug And your mentor's a slug Slurping the university She said you getting high's empowering It sounded like an alibi to me No one is ever free But you can't get that through your head Just like you can't get over Someone else is always prom queen instead My fury must be fed I dance for those I'd rather destroy An instant armchair analysis Of your most complex boy toy Metropolitan witch Do you even exist? Metropolitan witch We should above this Dirty city On broomsticks Well its only bad luck If you put faith in coincidence If you believe in better angels Assigned to unwashed miscreants The respect unsent By people who can't be true Daddy incorporated See, I can be psychoanalytical too The values aren't new Culture catalyzed by guilt Light a fire then cash your check Nothing's actually been built And play it to the hilt The identity you set on me Misled middle class philistine Your lover and conquered enemy Yet still we take a seat At this gentrified café The kind of place when this was somewhere People had something to say But that was yesterday And they were frauds too Because they made ‘I' their God And as for me, baby, we're through Metropolitan witch Do you even exist? Metropolitan witch We should above this Dirty city On broomsticks
Another savage night Camouflaged in neon You could use a friend To lean on The stranger inside Is a white-veiled bride Sinking in the altar she's standing on And the upside of numbness Is that your conscience Has become Teflon Van Ronk doesn't live here anymore And the avant garde in the record store Philosophize about being reborn In a time more pure Once was, but nevermore Nevermore Chorus: The holy water and vodka, circle the same drain In the name of a sadness never given a name The paralysis is an expression a shame Some sadness never given a name You wish there was a face That smiled just for you Brighter than the Broadway lights Illuminating eighth-avenue But you aren't meaningful in the machinery A tuxedoed guitar, praising the secular god And methods to justify the thievery Rebel or Machiavelli What revolution do you want to sell me? The bones of a skinned fish Glitter above the avenue And it only took a few drinks To accept it never mattered what was true When nothing applies to you Nothing applies to you You
Life in the empire /The sentries sing at sunrise/ Their Gods are deader / Than the sadness in their eyes / And I am tethered / To the awaited surprise / The turn in the narrative / The truth in the lies / Where all will make sense / Be at last contextualized / Alone in their own reality / Where no one may hide Life in the empire / Culture is an old bag / Accusing you of having / Things you never had / And some tin-eared pawn / Celebrates the new hit / While another gatekeeper / Decides if your copper slipper fits / They danced in the street / Because they thought they won / But nothing is stopping / The next flood The songs inside me must be born / Like the clothes outside you / Must be worn / And the seawall constructed / On the cusp of Babylon / When there still were matinees / In days halcyon / Such a feat of engineering / A true union job / But praying in high-water / Bought me closer to god / May the old become new / And life continue on / We are but the remnants / Of a world that is gone Life in the empire / Requires many saints / The selfless among us / Submitting to their fates / To tourniquet with grace / Though the wound is terminal / Who offer their shoes / With many miles to go / Their passenger faces alight / In siren red / They offer their hand in crises / Instead of retreating instead Life in the empire / At least I have your love / In the brain-damaged polarization / None of us are above / And the sanity of our negotiation / Keeps my hope intact / I am special, I am someone / With you, as a matter of fact / And the wishes of a child / Are honored by the birds in flight / Though all the glory offered / Is a paycheck and fluorescent light The gift I offer strangers / With a trembling hand / Is all the fury inside / We never understand / The song cycles forever / Until nature runs out of chords / Someone becomes the subject / Another impersonates the lord / And the personality imperiled / By all this hell breaking loose / With violent solutions / That cannot be refused / May the old become new / And life continue on / We are but the remnants / Of a world already gone
Goodbye Forever Dream Please dream Your vivid dog dreams Chasing the prize Down the hill Securing a kill ‘Tween your teeth Days Cold days Alone under The burnt-out Sun Undying and unwilling to Stay We can walk eternal An endless jaunt together Find a new face of earth Its never gonna be Goodbye forever But you always knew There was a chance I wouldn't make it Back to you Anguish where you lie Cause it could be goodbye forever And we never knew What those passing days Would do Treats Here's another treat You're too damn fat But Hard old life Has me Beat In summer Liminal summers Hosing you down With the backyard hose Before you shook Under nature's Thunder You can go free No more polite society Make an alpha your bitch Start a family Its never gonna be Goodbye forever But you always knew There was a chance I wouldn't make it Back to you Tormented cries when we die Cause it could be goodbye forever And you never knew What those passing days Would do
A life in a mirror Of someone's design With a fleeting interest In my own mind New, improved rules Assimilated inside Genuflect and pray Before your mobile device There's a new boss in town Polarized from the other guy Queens is quiet tonight I hate when bands make me wait For something I've already seen With survival less guaranteed It matters less what it all means Falling through the seasons Of my dreams Observing the fire hydrant ejaculating blood On my $100 jeans It's hardly apathetic Noticing where we no longer align Queens is quiet tonight The urgency of yesterday Becomes an uneasy today In a broken contract with safety Which used to account for the price paid And the poets always miss The sunset's indifference And the politicians equate a vote With a kind of spiritual deliverance The Internet has fallen And now there's nowhere to hide Queens is quiet tonight My notebook's privilege Might be something you forgive In the mad dream of culture Where we both live Somewhere a phenomena Uncommented upon The High School cafeteria Is our everlasting god But there's little hope in it Those trapped in the monitor's light Queens is quiet tonight
Streetlight Oh streetlight Under starlight Guide me Home tonight Stranded On 1st Avenue And my only way to 8th Is on these old shoes Just passed Beth Israel I'm not convinced I'm completely miserable Bought your EP And there's a tinfoil pizza In Queens awaiting me Third draft In too deep But when I get home The neighborhood's asleep And who needs a life raft When you've got a good buoy? I can only live the life Which feels true to me If there's no time There's no time Which is yours or mine By sunlight The streetlight Is godlike From its omniscient height And the stage in The Map Room Is occupied by ghosts That could never breakthrough I take Attendance Circle a bubble To confirm a child's existence Tell me How to reach you While minding deliverance Is beyond my purview Everyone wants An answer As if it would be the same For each and every one of them And who needs innocence Compared with the variety of Experience I'd bet your life stays the same Whether you are one of the few Hearing this If there's a streetlight There's starlight There's a beautiful, original One-of-a-kind Mind
A Moment or Two Upon your balcony You see me Tender evening's intimacy Embodies mercy In a servant's disguise you flee Into me These sad things Killed our passion with love A quelled candle in a sleeping tomb Where flies one lost dove For a moment or two Our warring families Write no treaties Caressing in summer's heat Down our dark streets Lovers have privacy When the city sleeps These sad things Killed our passion with love A quelled candle in a sleeping tomb Where flies one lost dove For a moment or two Returned to your property Because you have to be An appointment with an apothecary He charges a flat fee There should be two moons above the sea Like your eyes are twin suns to me These sad things Killed our passion with love A quelled candle in a sleeping tomb Where flies one lost dove For a moment or two
Sunday Planes Sunday planes Flying low Through your hair Soft and slow We are alive Let's take a ride Absurdity Sing to me There's still an ambulance Waiting for me Beyond another Dreamt summer And should we part Without a goodbye Know you were more than enough For a reason why My faithful skeptic For the rest of it I'll find the sweetness between Optimism and delirium In an empire on its knees No longer high on helium Without an identity Beyond the taught and bought Upon the cereal stained textbook page Describing the battles we fought Sunday brain Power-saving mode I've stopped seeing birds Flying alone In the blue Queens sky Of our collective mind Ghosts in the street Serenade me I'm only writing prayers No more prophecy Of the mercurial light Only redefined night Ambitions fade Seasons leave The flowers grow again Before the dirt can grieve In a clearing by the sea Where you once held me I'll lean on the abstract read Of my most contradictory components I have little use for attention seeking ‘Nor fetishizing aloneness If that passes for dignity Then hell, sign me up I'm always somewhere in the multiverse Singing about love
The Show Do Tell Reading Series made a one-day return at Governor's Island for the New York City Poetry Festival. I'm definitely hoping to get the series going again in a more consistent format by 2022 (or before!). But until then this lovely summer day with three extremely talented readers and my amazing fiancé recording the reading will have to do. I could not have done a facsimile of our standard format without Brendan, Amy and Aaron being awesome collaborators. Hope you enjoy! Brendan Lorber is a poet, prose writer, and editor who lives in a little castle on the highest geographic point in Brooklyn, across from the Green-Wood Cemetery. Over two decades in the making, his first full-length book just came out. It's called If this is paradise why are we still driving? and is published by the Subpress Collective. He's also written several chapbooks, most recently Unfixed Elegy and Other Poems (Butterlamb) He's appeared in the American Poetry Review, Fence, McSweeney's, Brooklyn Rail, and elsewhere. Amy Barone's latest poetry collection, We Became Summer, from New York Quarterly Books, was released in early 2018. She wrote chapbooks Kamikaze Dance (Finishing Line Press) and Views from the Driveway (Foothills Publishing.) Barone's poetry has appeared in Café Review, Paterson Literary Review, Sensitive Skin, and Standpoint (UK), among other publications. She belongs to PEN America Center and the brevitas poetry community. From Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, she lives in New York City. AARON POOCHIGIAN earned a PhD in Classics from the University of Minnesota and an MFA in Poetry from Columbia University. His first book of poetry, The Cosmic Purr (Able Muse Press), was published in 2012, and his second book Manhattanite, which won the Able Muse Poetry Prize, came out in 2017. His third book, American Divine, won the Richard Wilbur Award and will come out in 2020. His thriller in verse, Mr. Either/Or, was released by Etruscan Press in the fall of 2017. His work has appeared in such publications as Best American Poetry, The Paris Review and POETRY.
My Inner-life’s centered Like a good conspiracy My back was turned overlong Toward some memory Where I was who they wanted to be Faded photograph Wrapped in a robe outside The church I wrote these words Corporate daddy Told me their worth It was dignified work Contaminated future bats Taking selfies in a cave But drink up your idealism And think positive thoughts Today Cause someone will Pay Riding out the rain In my mind Underground Guess I could’ve been someone else If I weren’t so proud To make this sound I need an intruder Nothing is not wrong I’ve serenaded this brick wall Through seven cycles of dawn Internally rage at betrayal While grinding up the seaside fortress It’s a strange trip for a Catholic kid Uncovering what the secular worship The downtown world, the better future The hijacked producing an exception Couldn’t understand their lesson How home should be a weapon Well this guy from Queens Don’t self-destruct Because fate disobeyed I walked my dog, I rollerbladed Watched the Yankees play On a blank summer day The swan shrieked On the trashy surf Protecting her cygnet We were on the trail above Each backed up a step Knew exactly what she meant Synchronized With the wind Rolling by sunset silhouettes A perfectly good day dies We pay our respects To the millisecond vignette Objectivity In the creature’s evening Clingers crawling up my hair An editor offers per-diem hours Am I supposed to care? Whether the city’s still there? Carpe diem, the humidity strengthens The illusion of actual Time today Edit some pages, scoop up her crap I’m really making my way Beside the Long Island Expressway I need an intruder Nothing is not wrong Pushing away the truth Has not made me strong Control the sun-slant on the road Regulate patterns of behavior I am the undercover man Their invisible next-door neighbor Human contact can be too much I dulled the arrow of my love I couldn’t conceive a soul like you Setting it once more, airborne, above
The Show Do Tell Reading Series and Art review returns with an in-depth review of Bob Dylan's latest album 'Rough and Rowdy Ways.' Matt also sifts through his feelings about his nonexistent personal essay about life during the pandemic, the subliminal appeal of film noir and gangster movies, and the state of the New York Yankees, who resigned venerable outfielder Brett Gardner during this episode's recording.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
My new album. ‘When The Saints’ was written during the pandemic. It imagines the inner-lives of citizens of a stopped culture, while also ruminating on the healing power of love. A note on the songs: New York Rain -- Reinvention is always a statement of power. But true identity is more complicated. We live in our contradictions -- the characters in this song may not be morally pristine -- but they are also willing to love within their contradictions. True lovers are the champions of the world. Untroubled Summer: Virginia Liston sings the 'Titanic Blues.' I'll See You On the Beach in Better Days: This was the first song I wrote during the pandemic. The character is a vain failure. He disregards safety measures, takes a cynical position on science even as his existence hinges on the cure, and frequently embarrasses the woman he loves. But he's also a true romantic. And there's something admirable about his devotion to individuality. An unaffiliated man -- accomplishes nothing and breaks nothing. A Free Citizen Sleeps: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -- Henry David Thoreau Cold Twilight: Apathy must be investigated. Not immediately rebuked on moral grounds as a show of sincerity. Civic responsibility may feel grounded in assumption when compared to the abstract quality of individuality and memory. Broken State: The coda is a prayer. Often, it is up to us to answer our own prayers. At the End of This Earth: The testament of one roadie's life and times in the twenty-first century. Except much of his life has been spent gazing at the singer whom he services. One person's burdens are another's blessings. The Watchman Reflects: One professional's life stored in the eyes of a painted woman on a wall. When the museum is closed, he goes alone to look. Intelligence: You may notice several songs on the album reference the world stopping. For a brief moment last spring, before it all went mad, there was an existential angst amid the fear and anger. One could actually see the system stopping -- almost like the sidewalks had reversed -- so we walked forward to get backward. Temporarily, loss and gain were negated. All had become theoretical. I actually was not what I thought I wanted. I was less, so therefore more. Such a mentality seemed to suit a character who'd done extremely consequential things in a highly conscious way, for a specific end. To fool them he had to fool himself too. Hidden Green: As society inevitably revolutionizes itself we must find ways of strength which cannot wear out -- changeless as the world can seem when we are in love in it. Night Driving: Holy headlights, guide us safely on our journey through evening's mystery. The imperceptibility 'tween 45 MPH and 50 -- dark matter where sound becomes song. (Night Driving was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poetry) New Year's Dream: Inspired by my love. Presiding: Ultimately the quietude of space was rather lost on me until I was looking *up* with the one I love. Finally Tonight: Waiting, finitude, forever -- these great forces we graze against in our simple little lives animated by love. Luck & Love: This song was never supposed to be this song. It was supposed to be something which I now do not remember. These lyrics I believe to the fullest.
Dana Roeser’s fourth book, All Transparent Things Need Thundershirts, won the Wilder Prize at Two Sylvias Press and was published in September 2019. She is also the author of The Theme of Tonight’s Party Has Been Changed, recipient of the Juniper Prize, as well as Beautiful Motion and In the Truth Room, both winners of the Samuel French Morse Poetry Prize. Among her many awards and honors are the Great Lakes Colleges Association New Writers Award, the Jenny McKean Moore Writer-in-Washington Fellowship, a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship, a Pushcart Prize, and numerous residencies in the U.S. and abroad. She has read her work widely and taught in the MFA programs in poetry at Purdue, Butler, and Wichita State Universities. Recent poems have appeared, or are forthcoming, in Pushcart Prize XLIII, Crazyhorse, Laurel Review, North American Review, Indianapolis Review, and Notre Dame Review. For more about Dana Roeser, please see www.danaroeser.com. Jessica Stilling's second novel, The Beekeeper's Daughter, was published this December, along with her YA novel, Into the Fairy Forest. Jessica has published in numerous magazines and journals including The Warwick Review, Ms. Magazine, Bust Magazine and The Writer Magazine. She teaches at The Gotham Writers Workshop and currently lives in New York City. Christina Connett-González is a fiction writer and poet. Her work has appeared in H.O.W. Journal, where she later served as Assistant Editor. She teaches creative writing to the youth at Writopia Lab in Manhattan. When not writing, Christina spends her time training, competing in obstacle course races, and reading everything on Earth. She lives in Queens.
Matt Waters: Vocals Takeshi Ohtani: Keys Early one mornin' the sun was shinin' I was layin' in bed Wondrin' if she'd changed at all If her hair was still red Her folks they said our lives together Sure was gonna be rough They never did like Mama's homemade dress Papa's bank book wasn't big enough And I was standin' on the side of the road Rain fallin' on my shoes Heading out for the east coast Lord knows I've paid some dues Gettin' through Tangled up in blue She was married when we first met Soon to be divorced I helped her out of a jam I guess But I used a little too much force We drove that car as far as we could Abandoned it out west Split up on a dark sad night Both agreeing it was best She turned around to look at me One more time as I was walkin' away Saying over her shoulder Boy, we're bound meet again some day On the avenue Tangled up in blue I remember staying in the great north woods Living in a vagabond hotel One day during the pouring rain I can feel how the axe just fell So I drifted down to New Orleans Where I was lucky not to be destroyed I almost died in the boiling flat Two miles outside of Delacroix But all the while I was alone The past was close behind I seen a lot of women But she never escaped my mind And I just grew Tangled up in blue She was dancing in the flamingo club And I stopped in for a beer I just kept lookin' at the side of her face In the spotlight so clear And later on when the crowd thinned out I was just about to do the same She was standing there, right behind my chair Touching me, said, “it ain’t no accident you came,” I muttered something under my breath She studied the lines on my face I must admit I felt a little uneasy When she bent down to tie the laces Of my shoe Tangled up in blue She lit a burner on the stove Wearing a dress made out of stars and stripes I thought you'd never say hello, she said You look like the silent type Then she opened up a book of poems And started quoting them to me Written by a French child From the eighteenth century And everyone of them words rang true And glowed like burnin' coal Pourin' off of every page Like it was written in my soul From me to you Tangled up in blue I lived with them on Montague Street In a basement down the stairs There was music in the cafes at night There was revolution in the air Then he started into dealing with slaves And something inside of her froze She had to sell everything she owned Even her jewelry and her clothes And when it all came crashing down I became withdrawn The only thing I knew how to do Was to keep on keepin' on Like a bird that flew Tangled up in blue So now I'm goin' on back again I got to get to her and be brave All the people we used to know At least the ones that ain’t in the grave Some are bricklayers, some are bank robbers Some are burglars, some are truck driver’s wives I don't know how it all got started I got no idea what they're doin' with their lives But me, I'm still on the road Headin' for another joint We always did feel the same We just saw it from a different point A different point of view Tangled up in blue All Rights reserved to Special Rider
AARON POOCHIGIAN earned a PhD in Classics from the University of Minnesota and an MFA in Poetry from Columbia University. His first book of poetry, The Cosmic Purr (Able Muse Press), was published in 2012, and his second book Manhattanite, which won the Able Muse Poetry Prize, came out in 2017. His third book, American Divine, won the Richard Wilbur Award and will come out in 2020. His thriller in verse, Mr. Either/Or, was released by Etruscan Press in the fall of 2017. His work has appeared in such publications as Best American Poetry, The Paris Review and POETRY. Prince A. McNally An emerging voice in American poetry as well as the International poetry scene, Prince A.McNally is a Brooklyn born poet, writer, philosopher and activist; who utilizes his voice as a platform to speak for the voiceless. Though quite eclectic, his poetry and prose focus mainly on the human condition, social injustice and the marginalization of people of color, the elderly; the poor and the homeless here in the U.S. and abroad. His verse is a constant appeal for society to awaken, to rethink and reshape its destiny. Prince's work has appeared in numerous literary magazines, blogs and anthologies throughout the U.S. and abroad. Such as: Dissident Voice, Tuck Magazine, GloMag(India), The World Poetry Open Mic-Poets Anthology, The National Beat Poets Anthologies: 'BEATATUDE' and 'We Are Beat' as well as the forthcoming, Italian Literary magazine 'American Poets and Others' where he receives a brief write-up, along with a translated version of his work. He is a member of The Academy of American Poets, The National Beat Poetry Foundation as well as The Brooklyn Poets. A student of Nichiren Daishonin's Buddhism, Prince prides himself on being... A Rebel with a Cause and Effect. His widely anticipated chapbook, 'Prelude To Serenity' is due out in the Spring of 2020. Donald Kennedy: Born Brooklyn NYU – Stern School of Business Wall St – 5 years. Short Term Securities Market. Last firm Lehman Bros. Left to become a photographer. Photographic career began assisting and studio managing a number of the top photographers in NYC. Bert Stern, Bill King, Pete Turner and Irving Penn amongst others, as well as a number of the photographers from the Magnum Photos group. He moved to Paris and worked there for a number of French, Italian, German and English fashion magazines before returning to the US. In NYC his work appeared editorially for several Hearst and Conde’ Nast magazines. Advertising clients included Saks Fifth Ave, Revlon and Lancome. Fine Arts Photography work began in Paris and has continued throughout his photographic career. Activist.
Sam Fischer was born in Bala Cynwyd and spent four incredible years out west at Whitman College before moving back to Philadelphia to live and work. He has a forthcoming poetry chapbook and wants to start a band. Please email him at samuel.t.fischer@gmail.com to connect. Shea Lowery is a professional counselor who believes writing is necessary to understand and explore the human experience. Check out her projects at shealowerylpc.com and ar-tic.org She edits fiction for the Toho Journal. Nick Gross was born and raised in West Philly. He has been writing poetry and creating short stories since the age of 10. He is currently working on a novel with original poetry.
David Puretz is the Editorial Director at Global City, an independent press that publishes the literary and cultural journal Global City Review, and a growing list of other books and anthologies, including his own. As Editorial Director, he oversaw the relaunch of the journal and the publication of the newest online and print journal issue, Legacies. He is also the creator and founder of burly bird zine. Puretz teaches writing at Yeshiva University in New York City, where he currently resides. His debut novel, The Escapist, releases in January. Taylor Hibma grew up in the Midwest and works as a digital media copywriter. His past creative pursuits include writing/directing two short films, including one that premiered at the Anthology Film Archives in New York City. He graduated with an MFA in Creative Writing and is working on a novel series based on his graduate thesis. Amy Veach received her M.F.A. from the City College of New York where she won the Doris Lippman Prize in Creative Writing. When not writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband and two-year old son.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
The second album from Queens, New York songwriter Matt Waters. Originally released November 27th, 2019.
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