Matt Mullins Poems
|1.||The Lightening And Us||4/18/2007|
|3.||Guitar Player Between Towns||4/18/2007|
|5.||Ode To The Sirens Of Our American Commute||4/18/2007|
|7.||Phone Call To Cousin Stacy||4/18/2007|
|9.||There Are Quarters In The Ashtray Next To The Bed||4/18/2007|
|10.||On Sunday Morning||4/18/2007|
|11.||The Aftermath As Written On Scrap Paper||4/18/2007|
|15.||To Each His Own||4/18/2007|
|16.||Death Loves Soup||4/18/2007|
|18.||The Age Of Reason||4/18/2007|
|19.||When The Painters Come||4/18/2007|
|20.||On The Birthday Of A.A. Miller's First Son||4/18/2007|
|21.||Visit To The Old Hockey Player's Home||4/18/2007|
|24.||The Neural Firings Of The Eternal Starlet||4/18/2007|
|25.||Father And Son In The Second Person||4/18/2007|
Comments about Matt Mullins
Father And Son In The Second Person
One day he will come into the bathroom
to watch you use the blade. And at five
or six or however old he still won't have
the right words, but what he'll be looking for
is the truth of his future face scraped clean
or shaped by beard. He'll want admittance
to the ritual and he will stand and stare at the wet
edge of the Ewek & Son Sexto©Blade flush
against your skin.
'Daddy, what's that? ' he'll say.
'Straight razor, son, ' you'll tell him
as you sweep the steel of your father's blade
through the lather covering your jugular vein.
'It takes ...
I have none to speak of
nor does my father
but my mother's body
is a roadmap of sharp turns
and pot-holed detours
that could not help but lead
to breakdowns and repairs.
Dual Arthroplasty: Cadillac