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Matt Greenblatt
Matt Greenblatt
(Octobe 12,1988 / Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA)
Matt Greenblatt Poems
| 1. | Bedroom | 12/15/2007 |
| 2. | Erruption | 8/29/2008 |
| 3. | Awkward | 9/9/2008 |
| 4. | Cancer Sticks | 9/26/2008 |
| 5. | Youth | 10/8/2008 |
| 6. | Kiss It Good Bye | 12/12/2008 |
| 7. | Exodus | 12/12/2008 |
| 8. | Diner Coffee | 12/16/2008 |
| 9. | Grafitti | 12/19/2008 |
| 10. | First Night Of Chanukah | 12/21/2008 |
| 11. | How To Smoke A Cigarette | 1/12/2009 |
| 12. | Love Is | 1/12/2009 |
| 13. | Modern Prometheans | 1/21/2014 |
| 14. | Suspension | 1/21/2014 |
| 15. | Thoughts On My Feet | 1/21/2014 |
| 16. | Vicious Cycle | 3/25/2007 |
| 17. | New Moon In August | 3/29/2007 |
| 18. | Early Morning Walk On The Beach | 4/12/2007 |
| 19. | Medicine | 4/28/2007 |
| 20. | Reflections On A Condemned Boarding House | 6/15/2007 |
| 21. | The Way Home | 7/12/2007 |
| 22. | The Snake Charmer | 7/29/2007 |
| 23. | Rats | 8/13/2007 |
| 24. | Leather | 8/22/2007 |
| 25. | A Single Crow | 9/15/2007 |
| 26. | Jackhammer | 9/21/2007 |
| 27. | Eating Sardines | 10/21/2007 |
| 28. | Executing | 10/29/2007 |
| 29. | Lady In Red | 9/26/2006 |
| 30. | The Commute | 9/26/2006 |
| 31. | Desert | 9/26/2006 |
| 32. | Angry Car | 9/26/2006 |
| 33. | My Wondering Eyes | 9/26/2006 |
| 34. | The Twin Primes Conjecture | 1/21/2014 |
| 35. | Thoughts On My Grandfather's Wake | 1/21/2014 |
| 36. | An Irish Funeral | 10/8/2006 |
| 37. | Night And Fog | 1/8/2007 |
| 38. | Showering | 9/26/2006 |
| 39. | Contraception | 1/21/2014 |
| 40. | The Coffee Maker | 11/23/2007 |
Best Poem of Matt Greenblatt
The Coffee Maker
Every morning wakes
With the flirtacious drip
Into the coffee pot
The hiss of steamed milk
Rumbling t-cranes
And hydraulic lifts
Brewing up and brining down
And a screw
On the steel mill floor
Falling, falling, falling
Give me coffee
Dark, thick, and
Black as night
Give me your machine
I am the coffee maker
Showering
Drowned in darkness, designed isolation
Icy knives assault my back
Descending to the iron floor
With a gentle pitter-pat
Where like soldier ants they march
Towards some home-called, destined hole
Bearing up upon their backs
Discarded filfth and aged happiness
Purged of being and
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