Goals for Twentyten.

A new decade, so at least I can pretend I’ll be more productive, yeah?

*Finish enough songs to put together a demo (especially since I’ve been promising such a thing to my dear Toni for nearly a year now).

*Do at least five paintings.

*Hone my wordskills so my lyrics aren’t trite and stupid.

*Have at least a 3.3 GPA for this semester.

*Decide if I want to go to grad school!

Anyway, kind of funny that this is my first post here.  I made this mostly so I could leave comments on the Los Campesinos! blog and feel special because my name would be a link to somewhere.  So yeh, probably a bit of an introduction is in order.

My name is Matt.  I currently am renting an apartment in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.  It’s an absolutely gorgeous place – literally a mansion (which explains its nickname – Shady Mansion, because it’s on Shady Avenue) with original hardwood floors and ornate mantels.  However, the company we rent it from is absolute shit.  For instance, since we moved in back in August, the faucet’s been a bit drippy.  After putting that in our original list of complaints, it took them until December to “fix” it.  By “fix” I mean cause the faucet to have a steady stream coming out of it all the time.  Then they came to our apartment yesterday to fix it again.  They took the faucet off…then turned on the water and flooded our kitchen.  P.s. It still drips. 

I’m majoring in theatre arts at the University of Pittsburgh, though I have no idea what I’m going to do with the rest of my life after I graduate (hopefully in 2011).

I really can’t think of anything else for now and I’m tired, so here’s a poem!

Fireflies bright as bells
fight to bring our attention
from the firelight moon,
orange as tired tongues
and full as breaths gasped
fresh-full of rolling air.

The siren symphony
of emergency backdrops
the emergence of
your siren eyes
and symphonyskin.

Bluebells bloom
in bellbloom moonlight,
expanding as our fingers
to feel more fireheat
as keratin meets keratin.

Boneknife sticking in my back
cold/warm as the love
in your eyes and in your heart,
tearing my skin, bleeding
in harmony with my water-eyes.

The pressure of tooth-on-tongue
brings shivers forth as though of
cold moonmagic; I quake
in anticipation of pleasure
and the imminent lack of you.

The imminent lack of you.
My emergence, emergency,
for sure though I am of firemoons,
I am sure of your departure
through the bluebell fireflies.