Biography of Matt Ransom
Matt was borne of a need to drink and write about it without his employer thinking that he was dragging his own name through the gutters.
Only recently resurrected to hide amorous intentions, he intends to dropp a few bombs and then lurk to see what she says.
Matt Ransom Poems
Once you mistook me for the menace, the menace Oh, if you'd only know... 'Cause you can only drive down main street
I try to stay professional I say nothing about it although everyone has lost their faces and put on yours
Last Day At The Baylands
the last day at the baylands and already it's rained but the sky is that blue for now and the geese buzz me
What Your Man Wants To Hear
You are too sweet Much sweeter than I remember Did you lose your cynical edge along the way? Or has age and the love of a good woman tempered you?
If I could make you stop for a moment and not entertain yourself not sing or be sung to
I might live in the trees and study the survival techniques of living off pine nuts and whatever else pokes through the snow
My Mind To Me A Ding-Dong Is
My mind to me a Ding-Dong is; such perfect food therein I find That even if a meal I miss my thoughts supply my need in kind
On The Shore
There are the rushing waves mountains of molecules each unaware of the others trillions apart
I think of a photograph, now gone of the world through a window the houses, the backyards and the oldest tree in the world
Musings From The Left During A Test
the fourth vertex is (4,5) right, right m+b isn't any of them Wait a minute!
This Is Just To Say (Sorry)
I have run away with a girl that I met on FaceBook
From forgotten ashes the newflame burns through the night to drive us from our bed we escape to different rooms and shout our blame
I try to stay professional
I say nothing about it
although everyone has lost their faces
and put on yours
But she notices my discomfort
or the recognition with which I greet the waitress
and the desk clerk and the driver