about

Matt James Boston, Massachusetts

contact / help

Contact Matt James

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: An Author is called to Heav'n
An author is called to Heaven
For his crimes against humanity.
He stands there with a stiff upper lip
Saying, "What do you want from me?"

"We want your body,
We want your soul,
We want your whole life
And nothing more."

"Blame the weatherman!
Never does what he can!
Blame the weatherman!
Never doing what he can!"

//

Words
To the page
Are like feet
To the pavement.

//

There are bombs falling over Stalingrad
But it doesn't matter much to you.
Dmitri's holed up in a trench now
Writing songs he hopes break through.

Bees make honey in a hive like you and I,
But I don't know what to make of it.
We're a collective whole. We're not. We're just a part now.
So what do you say if we quit?

Literary wives and husbands
Make unruly bedfellows.
You've got to rein them in or else they'll get out
And burst your home with a "Hello!"

Diplomatic summit of the most feeble mind
Where questions are turned to riddle.
But promise me one thing now, dear:
You'll stay in the middle;

You'll try with all your mettle
To try just a little
To stay in the middle
And to be just a little
To try with all your mettle
To try just a little
To stay in the middle
And to be just a little

Braver and stronger and harder,
Braver and stronger and harder,
Braver and stronger and harder
To just stay in the middle.

//

"Something about...you know...just...Vassily Grossman...and World War II...and airplanes...being a kid...whatever..."
Track Name: A Boy cries, "How e'er could you stand by, Let the piercing light on in, & Haha on suffering?" (Be human!)
Faeries and pixies and the host
Of forêt children.
Liars and cheaters and people
You'd never want to know.

Faeries and pixies and the host
Of forêt children.
Liars and cheaters and people
You'd never want to know at all.

//

A spider
Meets its maker,
The back of
Some Sunday paper.

A squash
And a bang
To cut
Its venom fang.

//

Being mean is a kind of defence
Like shells and hollow voices
And missed calls to someone you forgot.

But being kind is a hard thing to keep up
In a time when it's easy to give up.
Now just give it a shot.
Track Name: A Widow gives birth & heralds a nouvel âge with a whimper
A dingy nurse
In a seafoam green hospital,
Where our baby was born
Just an hour ago.

Let's see if
He's still sleeping,
For to breathe life
Is to be a kid.

Hellish
And brute,
Bright red and
Crying from head to foot.

On state health
And crying foretold future,
Our baby's got
Eighteen years to go.

Let's see if
He's still breathing,
For to sleep life
Is to be all grown.

All grown-up!
All grown-up!
All grown-up!

//

Don't try to pretend that
They have a modicum of a normal life.
Don't feed a ghost at night;
They're most hungry when they're out of light.

On va à la gare and
The chugga-choo-choo of a city train.
The body's left, and it don't care
Where it goes, néanmoins.

A little goes a long way
When you're camping out in the snow.
A heart of darkness and
Not much more for them to know.

Le noir, le noir, le noir, le noir...
Track Name: A Schoolbus Driver crashes into an elm
"Fasten your seat-belts. It's going to be a bumpy night."
Track Name: Lot's so afear'd, Babe! for a Man and Wife contemplate the Moon
Moonlight dear,
Moonlight hun',
Moonlight dear,
Moonlight hun'...

(Ich und Du und
Du und Ich und
Ich und Du und
Du und Ich und...)

//

"Honey" drips in a cold night stay.
They understand me but in a strange, strange way.

Ich weiß das, ich weiß das, ich weiß das, Zola.

Fury, our love toasts "sláinte!"
What's lost, sir, we'll find, hem-and-haw.

Ich seh' das, Montag.

//

Grandmas
Talk of (Talk of)
Holocausts,
And the
Cost of
Oil-gas. (Oil-gas)
Sip green tea.
Laugh on.

Merry
Without (Without)
Kingdoms. And
Mary's
Book-thumb
Runs its (Runs its)
Length. It's now
Absorbed.

//

Looking on in horror, pillar of salt.
"It's not my fault, It's not my fault!
"I'm the righteous son of man!
"No, no, none of this I planned!"