Show Do Tell: A Reading Series & Art Review

These Psychic Fields From the hotel window The city is a kaleidoscope Of blurred light In the bedroom mirror You voice your positive affirmation Once, and then twice On the nightstand There’s a torn pack of baseball cards And an empty bottle of Sapporo You watch another Twilight Zone Incredulous at the idea There’s two hours until tomorrow These psychic fields That connect you & me It has to be real Our gap in notoriety You feel like you are no one Not even worth the Strings I strum In the lounge there is a locker Left abandoned Tagged with graffiti Everyday you see a skull exploding While dining on your And memory There was a moment of momentum And then all the good luck Abruptly stopped They considered you for the picture Which was tinted and angled And you were unfortunately cropped Chorus You think about my life How you’d love to live in music And sleep on a tour bus You have one of mine Stuck in your head Specifically the chorus You daydream of wearing A leather jacket loaded With money and swagger When ponder living Someone else’s life The details never seem to matter Chorus Two men staring at the same city Only, from different Windows I am burden by the excess Of hope I carry While you nurse your thimble We both got drunk Couldn’t dream, even with A warm body in our bed Neither of us could touch The sudden snowfall upon All the living and the dead Chorus So, both of us wandered Out of our hotels Which were directly across the street It turns out Madison Avenue Is a perfect place for Strangers to meet We made eye contact, commented Mutually on the flurries, you joked about The shabby slippers on my feet Though you probably regretted never mentioning the album You once made Your humor before fate, Allowed me later to stop resisting sleep And fade Chorus Coda: What’s the worth of two men? One having more than the other Could we have been friends? Discussed both having a mother We separate ourselves, defined through Cause, career, and achievement We stare up at shadowy walls In the evening Having never really believed In any of it

Island of Broken Toys This piece of plastic Is fantastic Accompanies me Through the sullen snow Our future recedes It was once orgiastic Now I practice Forgetting what I know The chief of police Held a press conference I watched it through the Window of a bar Where a faceless man Stirred a gin and tonic Watched a commercial With a pretty, singing star Jammed a cold hand in my overcoat And I continued onward The masses seem disillusioned With hope Now they’re starting To talk a bit tougher Chorus: And if you could fix This brokenness There’d be no reason to love you So my salvation Is a fabrication I refuse to invest in And if I could soothe Your Jazz Age blues You’d have no reason to need me So your depression Is actually an obsession With the theory of original sin ………………….. My screen feeds Endless imagery A repository for the Past It provides no epiphany But keeps me company Like a looping late-night News broadcast I’m notified To my surprise That my phone thinks I’m lost It recommends A taxi ride And calculates The cost Wondered near the Seaport sea And my boots Crunch upon the frost Your text message Reminds me Solidarity Is love unlost Chorus On an island Of broken toys Where the brutalism is Authentic You showed mercy To one lucky boy So the sewer mulch May be romantic In the time of The broken mirror Where the meaning Of morality is questioned In each other’s mind We find a glimmer Of the love that Must be protected Modern idealogues In a screen Who won’t feel the violence They advocate I take these walks Away from me Before returning home to you To create

Blunderland The streetlights glowed Chrystal white Against a confetti veil Of falling snow We looked to the left, looked to the right Picked nowhere in particular To go The champagne was nestled In the crook of your scarecrow arm We thought we’d spend The rest of our lives Never hearing an alarm Blunderland, Blunderland I guess it’s hard to understand How heavy reality rests In the palm of an ordinary man Blunderland There was a man dressed Like Santa Slumped against a blue mailbox His cotton-beard was decorated With an authentic December frost You leaned to touch his shoulder He acted like he’d been throttled He called you a cop And tried stealing your Cherry-tinted bottle Blunderland, Blunderland They slam a dollar In your open hand When you were only seeking Assistance to stand Blunderland We got into our hotel And there was an isosceles On the wall You gazed upon The street beneath us Said, “it doesn’t feel like I thought.” So I held you from behind Put a peck on your left ear Told you, “You’ve only been Conditioned by cinema, my postmodern dear.” Blunderland, Blunderland The record company Signed our band They bought us out For 27 grand Blunderland But still you were troubled And ambled for the inviting emerald Loveseat With a mirthless sigh and muttered, “why,” You kicked the suede boots from Your ballerina feet You let the bubbly Simply sink against your side I was suddenly gripped by the realization You would never be my bride Blunderland, Blunderland The things people do To feel fleetingly grand I had a vision of us in Rockaway Waltzing on the icy sand I said, “Monica, please rise,” And your fluttered eyes meant you were Listening I told ya, “don’t let this city get you down, because someday We’ll be reminiscing,” Over the whirlwind since graduation And the noises in our heads The little crack in the corner of your ceiling Where those nocturnal spiders Spun their fragile webs Blunderland, Blunderland Living like a slogan Portraying an All-American brand Because for some people It costs more than change Passing days out on the lam

I Know Better Ice cold morning A hole in my shoe I have to make some money To afford fast food It is raining razor blades But I’m in a good mood Everyone gets lucky sometimes I’m about due People bleed in different places diamond-shaped cuts in their faces Gashes on their elbows and knees Turn to ice-sealed scabs at 11 degrees I know better To be undermined by bad weather You shouldn’t be swayed By the well-meaning brigade Selling absolute doom It's good journalism But it don't carry a tune Blistering summer evening The concrete undulates I’m strolling the neighborhood Off the 3 AM train The moon is an empty plate My mind and body are plagued By the realization of wherever I go My malady refracts in new array Everyone has the right advice I’m unemployed, they’re Jesus Christ Preaching a sermon of responsibility to me Because I’m on an indefinite vacation after my bachelor’s degree I know better To be undermined by bad weather You shouldn’t be swayed By the well-meaning brigade Selling absolute doom It's good journalism But it don't carry a tune

Hungarian Rhapsody -- Winter by Matt Waters

Burnt Leaves You never ask me to come over When you sit at the end of the bar With a look on your face Like you’re watching the implosion of a star Was it another audition Where the casting director led you on? Now you’re looking to score So we can discuss the golden era past the break of dawn I never tell you that you’re too temperamental For such a brutal line of work That your kindness would be better served As a teacher or a nurse Nor that your breakdowns amuse me For I have seen so much worse Beautiful minds who could have defined the times Lost because they got sick first Chorus Burnt leaves Scatter at my feet They’ll disappear down a gutter And life is never that neat I feel This forgotten cemetery inside me And for the grace of an unknown God I’d sleep forever beneath a white sheet Once or twice, you’ve asked outright Why I give a damn about you Another anonymous Midwest actress Probably only passing through I never reveal My habit for survival has left me alone That weeks go by and you’re the only one Who calls me on the phone Imagine that, 20 year age gap And I can’t even with girls Something else about you must remind me of my mother Aside from those dark brown curls So regular together The waiters gave us a nickname with a ring of truth I’m the Old Man and the Sea You’re Betty Boop Chorus Well tonight, I think I got something different To tell you These minor defeats and indignities Just haven’t been enough to quell you And even if it makes you hate me, Man its work the risk I’m so damn tired of watching beautiful people Who think pain and rejection make them exist Because you’re better than this Better than dancing on a puppeteer’s string You might not want to hear it But the world doesn’t need another pretty face to sing But who am I kidding? I won't broadcast your disgrace We'll just talk about Scorsese Our version of saying grace You’ll mumble how you feel safe with me, that I’m the closest you’ve ever had to a father A dire warning about your destruction will linger on my lips But like all the times before, I just won’t bother Chorus

Winding Down So vast This Expanse The moon surface Of my mind Lamp-light frames the snow And we go Deeper into that gentle night Which is blind to the past The roles we’ve been cast The dreams that have been denied Chorus: Winding down The lights flicker in town Then they die They die They die I have no illusions I’m paid to entertain the delusions Of the hierarchies and their disaffected Sons Conditioned to think creative work Represents a nobler birth In our country of bibles and guns But I’m hardly cynical In fact, I’m quite equivocal About my replenishing of funds Chorus And your eyes are a respite Though we may fight About what you call my Callous attitude We have our bench and pond The graceful sense of being beyond Each other’s disappointment or gratitude Yet you feel so acutely my fear That I had a life that disappeared Like a flight lost at cruising altitude Chorus From where does this bitterness come? You live a dream, that’s supposed to be freedom Instead I’m the absence of joy In the state at large The teenage girl crying on her birthday Her businessman father with nothing to say The mother hardened by too many days in charge At least my charges believe in writing And you leave me alone with my faulty wiring Like a noir detective drinking on the job Chorus Summertime now and I could leave Then its winter again and I’ve begun to grieve And in autumn my mother didn’t provide Any indication When you talk about next January My madness feels almost sanitary Maybe I just need a good, warm vacation You say I’m doing great, I’ve got it together I look like a knight in this coal black sweater You can kiss me on the forehead because We’ve arrived at our station

Halloween Well, they said this one’s serious And not to go outside and smoke I figured my mother wasn’t delirious So I took note Hunkered alone in the basement Watching Season 5 of Mad Men I called to make sure you were aware And to feel like you still were a friend You sounded agitated And staticky on the line I said, you didn’t let that stupid bastard Talk you into giving him a ride Chorus There’s always tomorrow Until there isn’t There’s always the light of lightening in a storm There’s always tomorrow until there isn’t I will love you Forevermore Now the storm touched down Knocked the crown off Kings Point Down in Ozone you could drown In Whitestone I ashed my joint If I’d known we’d split I’d have never introduced you to my mom If she knew you revenge cheated She might not care if you were harmed Yet it gave me a twinge Remembering your Winehouse eyelids Glittering in the streetlight that night We joked about having kids Chorus I hear the rain hard while Pacing from the boiler to my couch Even after the texts with the threats It’s you I still can’t live without So I raced up the stairs, put on my Yankees hat And grabbed the keys Planning to find you To explain what state of emergency means But my father grabbed me with half-my-shoulder Out the door And was already pulling me back inside before I even answered when he asked, “what the hell are you leaving for?” Chorus Well, two days later And it was Halloween I saw some little girl walking around a fallen tree And she was dressed like a Disney queen I didn’t feel nothing While walking through our little shattered town I couldn’t lose this shining vision of you Wearing a white wedding gown It was all my goddamn fault I grew up getting called ugly I couldn’t stop myself from wanting someone else Even when I knew you loved me I heard he wanted cigarettes The kindergarten teacher called him dim The priest said nothing about his sins Nobody wanted to blame him Chorus Nowadays I can't sleep These ghosts in my head Project in black-and-white Above my childhood bed I’ve never really stopped taking That first walk right after the storm I’ve never wanted to mend the Threads of our life together that were torn They say I make you a saint Because I block your flaws out of my mind They tell me it’s only natural for people to heal When they’ve had enough time Chorus

The autumn twilight The masquerade The days move forward Thoughtless cadets on parade Do I feel more afraid? Than what I used to be? Of being somebody, or nobody A fading glint Took me for a walk I buttoned my coat Though you wanted to talk With your dissolvable salt I know you didn’t mean to You’re just telling the truth The faces of strangers The indifference of a moment A neighborhood renting Because they can’t own it With their inevitable sin and uncertain atonement The motorcyclist makes a delivery Beside the lawn with a smoking chimney Chimney, has a memory Of the way things were supposed to be Chimney, lighting up in the dying heat With almond eyes set beside crow’s feet The evening animates In sashaying wind It could be leading me further out Or right back in To yesterday’s hobgoblin Everyone’s smarter than me Monuments to efficiency And I’m walking in a circle To find my way home Dimming those palaces in my mind Where the light relentlessly shone Upon pillars of stone Crumbling to dust in the present Eventually preserved in a dangling pendant When I’m a few blocks away It kicks back to sense Some ideas fade Love is permanent For a sense of recompense Then Chimney coughs and returns inside Is she thinking about the one she left behind?

Moonlight Sonata -- Fall by Matt Waters

Holy Summer Night Somewhere between Lucky & free Off the train And on the scene The trees smile Ominously Forever We shall not be The warm wind sings Deliriously The stars are our shining Canopy Above frenetic Repartee Among unknown and Ambitious company This moment is a memory Oh, holy summer night I stay alive To feel your Plight Betwixt and between Inherited identity Surviving a strange dream Called physical reality Stay awhile With your pitbull smile We have chemistry You & me This sidewalk jewelry Broken bottled cruelty Embedded in the concrete Like a desolation courtesy Guiding us This way and thus Toward all desire’s Fait accompli This moment is a memory Chorus

At The National Show A cloudless summer day Got off the wrong stop on the train Before the low-hanging night Was engulfed by rain I was walking through the park And the show decided to start Heard the man singing about soul And I moved nearer to take part Had ventured out solo Instead of staying home A few of my recent dates Were like talking to a stone I swear I felt you there And in my memory I see your hair Hanging off the back of a black raincoat You always say you’d never wear Isn’t it funny? How we almost met before we met That was a world ago At The National show I was so goddamn tired of being alone Aimless empire nights Patrolling shadows beneath the lights Staring into some tinted window Set at an unreachable height I emailed gibberish to my professors Because I was nobody’s successor I just couldn’t bridge that distance between Anonymous and successful It was like I could disappear Without having any there to get back here There was only rock and roll baseball To treat my lancing fear Chorus Strolling with soggy shoes Following the mid-set monsoon I was thinking about The Land of Oz And destined for my quiet bedroom It was only four more months Until I’d feel your touch Previously my love life had been like An EP release where nobody comes It was first the sound of your voice Inviting me into a choice The tone was like smoky cinnamon Incinerating every other noise I’d torn up a lottery ticket Over someone’s rude opinion I’d rather the dignity of a nobody Instead of a paid minion Chorus

Verona Revisited I was thinking about a summer moon I was remembering the bomb in Times Square I was recalling that when I was with you I didn’t really care I was ransoming your promise I was planning out our life I never stopped to ask myself If you wanted to be my wife Bought time With a rhyme Never even tasted Your lips upon mine Swore I was fine Drinking the world But a guy can get tangled When he falls in love with a girl Those days are long ago And the city doesn’t feel the same As when I was brand-new with you Like I never had a name The bench between the avenues The movie theater underground The way you made me go in search Of some divine, secret sound Chorus Would I sound ridiculous? To admit I pictured you with gray hair Was I mistaken when I concluded You never gave a damn Hey, we were young And things get messy Deep down I knew you were Too busy to miss me Chorus Well, what could be more romantic? Two city kids in love? In the first summer of a new decade Through the eyes of a wounded dove In the flashing lights Behind the homeless man in the park The Holy Spirit doesn’t help him Nor does my broken heart

Paradigm You’re a glistening Apparition It’s 102 by the pool And you can’t remember The last time you went to school That professor Was unsuccessful He tried inspiring through shame But his intellectual ambition Couldn’t be more lame Had a Paradigm But it all liquifies Beneath the sun You’d jot a thought If you wanted one Bought a new Bathing suit Your teacher mother died young Your salesman father loves a drink When the deal is done Empty-headed friends A means to an end Isolation can be like a blister You barely notice until you break Then you get a visit from your sister Had a Paradigm But it was blinded by the Taillights on the highway But you’re never one to heed a warning From faraway You’re just on a different wavelength Keeping those you love in true suspense Collecting bottle caps in your desk drawer Spreading glitter on the resumes Lining your bedroom floor But you’re so much wiser Than the career advisor Dawn just kissed your rusty shed In your purgatorial backyard Days of wine and stasis indefinitely extend Had a Paradigm But no one took the time To analyze the sadness In your pale, green Eyes

Scenes that are Brightest -- Summer by Matt Waters

Equinox The sun slipped through A gray cloud And illuminated the scene The town hummed In sudden thrall As if stirred from winter’s dream The sidewalk seized By children spilling Recklessly into the street You stood beside The blue mailbox Where we’d agreed to meet Equinox, equinox Has returned to life Everything you forgot Equinox, equinox All your old hopes Preserved in an ink blot Equinox, equinox Provides the strength to lift Those ideals you long ago dropped The April sky Seems pastel painted Onto the lenses before your eyes We talked about the government, the Internet And you wondered when I’d ever Realize You said, ‘the only hope is the Present moment, cyclical and Interpersonal.’ We never related About interfacing And my depression was Non-negotiable Chorus On the aching boulevard It made too much sense To tell each other Goodbye Not sure what you wanted by meeting We didn’t click, I never thought You needed to apologize But before we parted You offered an embrace And your arms were still So strong That lingering sense Of an unfinished sentence Dissolved upon your whisper, “The weather’s getting warm.” Chorus.

Freedom Tower (album version) by Matt Waters

The Logic of His Wings He spent the night Thinking about Madonna While restless In his bed During many of his Waking hours He acted out the dreams In his head Of being a baseball star A wrestler An action hero without a face The world was moving so Frantically around him He couldn’t keep Pace Beauty everywhere Beauty nowhere Beauty in the shadow Of a pigeon At the park Beauty everywhere Beauty nowhere His beautiful house Was falling apart The hope of what a new day brings The logic of his wings Inject adrenaline into a broken heart And fly, triumphantly Toward a dying star A little brown wallet Full of grandma’s money And a bike ride To the candy store A Butterfinger, and Gamepro Were everything he can afford These were the bright colors Of dreamlands Constructed in cubicles The brilliant backgrounds Above the orchestra For a middle-class American Musical Beauty everywhere Beauty nowhere Beauty in those sirens Wailing in the Dark Beauty everywhere, beauty nowhere Barmen We tend to play our part The hope of what a new day brings The logic of his wings Inject adrenaline into a broken heart Then fly, triumphantly Toward a dying star

Intermezzo - Spring by Matt Waters

Douglas Gabriel Rotello (born February 9, 1963) is an American musician, writer and filmmaker. He created New York's Downtown Divas revues in the 1980s, was the co-founder and editor-in-chief of OutWeek magazine, became the first openly gay columnist at a major American newspaper, New York Newsday, and authored the book Sexual Ecology. He now makes documentaries for HBO, The History Channel and other networks. In 1998 Rotello moved to Los Angeles and began making documentaries exploring American life and popular culture with World of Wonder founders Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato. Their first collaboration, the documentary Party Monster, centered on New York's downtown nightclub scene, a world which Rotello, Bailey and Barbato knew from their earlier days as musicians.[14] Their next feature, The Eyes of Tammy Faye,[15] is on Current TV's list of 50 Documentaries to See Before You Die. Rotello currently makes science and history documentaries with Flight 33 Productions for the History Channel, Discovery Channel and National Geographic Channel, including series such as The Universe, Life After People, Big History and America's Secret Slang. https://www.koehlerbooks.com/book/the-cbgb-conspiracy/

Baseball! Yankees! Life!

Glittering How did we ever get in this party? They must have thought we were the help The mid-June moon Over the World Trade Tomb I don’t want to leave this rooftop With anyone else The host is a rich old bachelor Loves what I paint Your platinum hair Is like permission to stare You say, considering the three thousand churches In this town there are precious few saints Chorus: And it is summer next week If I could have remembered to speak I would invite you to Coney Island Not easy surviving In a city where indifference Is often the closest thing to kindness I’m just wondering If you are also pretending Not sure I deserve a happy ending Glittering, glittering We were glittering They warned me it all ends Embittering Yet I swore it wouldn’t happen to us Flickering lighting Down the complex stairwell And you made a joke About us being murdered Then your brother got ashes Caught in his sunglasses At that point your attitude became Quite a bit sterner You accused me of contentment Cause I had something going While the absurdity of our lives Had been revealed bare According to my recollection We parted at an intersection The host advised you Are not exactly rare Chorus Twenty years later It’s happy hour At the bar where I tend for Rent You have the same circuitous grin Here at Tailspin And the corners of your five spot Are bent The art world hyped me Then forgot completely The end of my career couldn’t have been More discreet Never saw you on television But wouldn’t make an assumption You stare a second longer Before ordering another Whiskey neat

Breaking down the Yankees 2025 season and options for improvement heading into 2026.

Chimney The autumn twilight The masquerade The days move forward Thoughtless cadets on parade Do I feel more afraid? Than what I used to be? Of being somebody, or nobody A fading glint Took me for a walk I buttoned my coat Though you wanted to talk With your dissolvable salt I know you didn’t mean to You’re just telling the truth The faces of strangers The indifference of a moment A neighborhood renting Because they can’t own it With their inevitable sin The motorcyclist makes a delivery Beside the lawn with a smoking chimney Chimney, has a memory Of the way things were supposed to be Chimney, lighting up in the dying heat With almond eyes set beside crow’s feet The evening animates In sashaying wind It could be leading me further out Or right back in To yesterday’s hobgoblin Everyone’s smarter than me Monuments to efficiency And I’m walking in a circle To find my way home Dimming those palaces in my mind Where the light relentlessly shone Upon pillars of stone Crumbling to dust in the present Eventually preserved in a dangling pendant When I’m a few blocks away It kicks back to sense Some ideas fade Love is permanent For a sense of recompense Then Chimney coughs and returns inside Is she thinking about the one she left behind?

Verona Revisited I was thinking about a summer moon I was remembering the bomb in Times Square I was recalling that when I was with you I didn’t really care I was ransoming your promise I was planning out our life I never stopped to ask myself If you wanted to be my wife Bought time With a rhyme Never even tasted Your lips upon mine Swore I was fine Drinking the world But a guy can get tangled When he falls in love with a girl Those days are long ago And the city doesn’t feel the same As when I was brand-new with you Like I never had a name The bench between the avenues The movie theater underground The way you made me go in search Of some divine, secret sound Chorus Would I sound ridiculous? To admit I pictured you with gray hair Was I mistaken when I concluded You never gave a damn Hey, we were young And things get messy Deep down I knew you were Too busy to miss me Chorus Well, what could be more romantic? Two city kids in love? In the first summer of a new decade Through the eyes of a wounded dove In the flashing lights Behind the homeless man in the park The Holy Spirit doesn’t help him And I nurse a broken heart

Winding Down So vast This Expanse The moon surface Of my mind Lamp-light frames the snow And we go Deeper into that gentle night Which is blind to the past The roles we’ve been cast The dreams that have been denied Chorus: Winding down The lights flicker in town Then they die They die They die I have no illusions I’m paid to entertain the delusions Of the hierarchies and their disaffected Sons Conditioned to think creative work Represents a nobler birth In our country of bibles and guns But I’m hardly cynical In fact, I’m quite equivocal About my replenishing of funds Chorus And your eyes are a respite Though we may fight About what you call my Callous attitude We have our bench and pond The graceful sense of being beyond Each other’s disappointment or gratitude Yet you feel so acutely my fear That I had a life that disappeared Like a flight lost at cruising altitude Chorus From where does this bitterness come? You live a dream, that’s supposed to be freedom Instead I’m the absence of joy In the state at large The teenage girl crying on her birthday Her businessman father with nothing to say The mother hardened by too many days in charge At least my students believe in writing And you leave me alone with my faulty wiring Like my father drinking alone in the garage Chorus Summertime now and I could leave Then its winter again and I’ve begun to grieve And in autumn my mother didn’t provide Any indication When you talk about next January My madness feels almost sanitary Maybe I just need a good, warm vacation You say I’m doing great, I’ve got it together I look like a knight in this coal black sweater Kiss me on the forehead Because we've arrived at our station

Discussing another wonderful Bob Dylan performance at Jones Beach and the travails of a completely disappointing, befuddling Yankees team.

Halloween Well, they said this one’s serious And not to go outside and smoke I figured my mother wasn’t delirious So I took note Hunkered alone in the basement Watching Season 5 of Mad Men I called to make sure you were aware And to feel like you still were a friend You sounded agitated And staticky on the line I said, you didn’t let that stupid bastard Talk you into giving him a ride Chorus There’s always tomorrow Until there isn’t There’s always the light of lightening in a storm There’s always tomorrow until there isn’t I will love you Forevermore Now the tempest seemed to be touching down My mother shouted downstairs, “some maniacs are staying in the casino.” She added its coming fast And asked about that, “girl you know.” If I’d known we’d split I’d have never introduced you to my mom If she knew you revenge cheated She might not care if you were harmed But it gave me another twinge thinking about the beginning You drove me wild when you laughed fluttering your eyelids Then under the streetlight outside your house We talked about having kids Chorus I hear the rain hard while Pacing from the boiler to my couch Even after the texts with the threats It’s you I still can’t live without So I raced up the stairs, put on my Yankees hat And grabbed the keys Planning to find you and John To explain what state of emergency means But my father grabbed me with half-my-shoulder Out the door And was already pulling me back inside before I even answered when he asked, “what the hell are you leaving for?” Chorus Well, two days later And it was Halloween I saw some little girl walking around a fallen tree And she was dressed like a Disney queen I didn’t feel nothing While walking through our little shattered town I couldn’t lose this shining vision of you Wearing a white wedding gown It was all my goddamn fault I grew up getting called ugly I couldn’t stop myself from wanting someone else Even when I knew you loved me I heard he wanted cigarettes And convinced you to take him The priest said nothing about his sins Nobody wanted to blame him Chorus You know what I got in my head? While I toss and turn In the absence of sleep In my childhood bed? That I’ve never really stopped taking That first walk right after the storm I’ve never wanted to mend the Threads of our life together that were torn Nowadays they say I make you a saint Because I block your flaws out of my mind They tell me it’s only natural for people to heal When they’ve had enough time Chorus

Burnt Leaves You never ask me to come over When you sit at the end of the bar With a look on your face Like you’re watching the implosion of a star Was it another audition Where the casting director led you on? Now you’re looking to score So we can discuss the golden era past the break of dawn I never tell you that you’re too temperamental For such a brutal line of work That your kindness would be better served As a teacher or a nurse Nor that your breakdowns amuse me For I have seen so much worse Beautiful minds who could have defined the times Lost because they got sick first Chorus Burnt leaves Scatter at my feet They’ll disappear down a gutter And life is never that neat I feel This forgotten cemetery inside me And for the grace of an unknown God I’d sleep forever beneath a white sheet Once or twice, you’ve asked outright Why I give a damn about you Another anonymous Midwest actress Probably only passing through I never reveal My habit for survival has left me alone That weeks go by and you’re the only one Who calls me on the phone Imagine that, 20 year age gap And I can’t even pretend to be into girls Something else must remind me of my mother Aside from those dark brown curls So regular together The waiters gave us a nickname with a ring of truth I’m the Old Man and the Sea You’re Betty Boop Chorus Well tonight, I think I got something different To tell you These minor defeats and indignities Just haven’t been enough to quell you And even if it makes you hate me, Man its work the risk I’m so damn tired of watching beautiful people Who think pain and rejection make them exist Because you’re better than this Better than dancing on a puppeteer’s string You might not want to hear it But the world doesn’t need another pretty face to sing But who am I kidding? I’ll catch the bare October moon In the cab’s rearview once we leave this place And we’ll wind up talking ceaselessly about Cassavetes And Scorsese, our version of saying grace You’ll mumble how you feel safe with me, that I’m the closest you’ve ever had to a father A dire warning about your destruction will linger on my lips But I just won’t bother Chorus

An update on a Yankees season that has gone off the rails.

Fall is Falling It seemed like a good idea She was 23 with a book deal Aren’t some fantasies allowed to be real? The exceptional ideal Chorus: Though I really hoped it We are not the same Fall is falling You’re not calling my name My friends said i miscalculated I thought they were sexually frustrated We all might have necks and backs aggravated But that shouldn’t mean a life of hesitation Chorus My ex-wife called her a gold-digger And was appalled she was younger than their babysitter Asked, ‘when she’s sitting on your lap, what nonsense does she whisper?’ I told my therapist, ‘see, this is why I don’t miss her.’ Chorus It was all so wonderful in the beginning Your lips reminded me I hadn’t been living When they stared at restaurants, you’d just be grinning I’d think to myself, ‘these jealous pricks hate that I’m winning.’ Chorus But the slightest thing can cause severe tension You felt betrayed when I wouldn’t make an investment In your mental patient friend’s latest invention Something about recycling plant stems for hair extensions Chorus And of course it all fell apart You wrote a shitty second novel about your lack of a heart Those fickle critics tore it apart While I had a cardiac episode in a Wal-Mart Chorus Well, I don’t have one regret I’m 85 now and my grandkids are in debt But for a life in letters, what could I expect? We may have parted, but at least we met Chorus

The Logic of His Wings He spent the night Thinking about Madonna While restless In his bed During many of his Waking hours He acted out the dreams In his head Of being a baseball star A wrestler An action hero without a face The world was moving so Frantically around him He couldn’t keep Pace Beauty everywhere Beauty nowhere Beauty in the shadow Of a pigeon At the park Beauty everywhere Beauty nowhere His beautiful house Was falling apart The hope of what a new day brings The logic of his wings Inject adrenaline into a broken heart And fly, triumphantly Toward a dying star A little brown wallet Full of grandma’s money And a bike ride To the candy store A Butterfinger, a videogame magazine Were everything he can afford The bright colors Of dreamlands Constructed in cubicles Were the brilliant backgrounds Above the orchestra For a middle-class American Musical Beauty everywhere Beauty nowhere Beauty in those sirens Wailing in the Dark Beauty everywhere, beauty nowhere Bartenders, construction workers and cops Were all playing their part The hope of what a new day brings The logic of his wings Inject adrenaline into a broken heart Then fly, triumphantly Toward a dying star

Freedom Tower This city used to be Lit by torchlight Dusk has fallen Deep I am caught between Cohabitating realities And unsure which dream I get to keep They finished the Freedom Tower My uncle said “They should have rebuilt it the same.” On the avenues paper men make an indifferent show Of disintegrating in the rain Chorus: I was the toast of Greenwich Village For about two minutes, once Glory was the price of tuition I wrote a book about alcoholic doves It was an elevated position A better view to look down at us I was supposed to learn a lesson But I keep forgetting what it was The romanticists loathe These bright corners Because they preferred privacy While watching my friend die They bloviate about Complicity And drink holy water From each other’s pierced sides Such is life In the unfolding parable I chase money to treat Such deep resentment I stroll these angular Blocks alone Like an ink-less pen Scratching the pavement Chorus The future is a Too cold day in May With only graspable fantasy An antidote to the news We are fractured, we are ruled Their sparkling communal vision Is always due to be disabused I’ve reached the block With my favorite pub And aged a little Over a decade I learned too late Your finest expression of love Were all my delusions You so silently forgave Chorus Five rounds Of rum and coke And the Yankees Holding off the Reds I tell the taxi driver To drive me past the epilogue Because I never like knowing How the novel ends Oh, verticalized glass With our reflections unkept We slide off with the ease Of a great promise unmet And the cabbie doesn’t answer When I ask about the ducks At Central Park Maybe he read the book And just didn’t like that part

Letter to My Double returns with our first episode about the 2025 Yankees!

Glittering How did we ever get in this party? They must have thought we were the help The mid-June moon Over the World Trade Tomb I don’t want to leave this rooftop With anyone else The host is a rich old bachelor Loves what I paint Your platinum hair Is like permission to stare You say, considering the three thousand churches In this town there are precious few saints Chorus: And it is summer next week If I could have remembered to speak I would invite you to Coney Island Not easy surviving In a city where indifference Is often the closest thing to kindness I’m just wondering If you are also pretending Not sure I deserve a happy ending Glittering, glittering We were glittering They warned me it all ends Embittering Yet I swore it wouldn’t happen to us Flickering lighting Down the complex stairwell And you made a joke About us being murdered Then your brother got ashes Caught in his sunglasses At that point your attitude became Quite a bit sterner You accused me of contentment Cause I had something going While the absurdity of our lives Had been revealed bare According to my recollection We parted at an intersection The host advised you Are not exactly rare Chorus Twenty years later It’s happy hour At the bar where I tend for Rent You have the same circuitous grin Here at Tailspin And the corners of your five spot Are bent The art world hyped me Then forgot completely The end of my career couldn’t have been More discreet Never saw you on television But wouldn’t make an assumption You stare an extra second Order another Whiskey Neat Chorus.

Equinox The sun slipped through A gray cloud And illuminated the scene The town hummed In sudden thrall As if stirred from winter’s dream The sidewalk seized By children spilling Recklessly into the street You stood beside The blue mailbox Where we’d agreed to meet Equinox, equinox Has returned to life Everything you forgot Equinox, equinox All your old hopes You stored away in a box Equinox, equinox Provides the strength to lift Those ideals you long ago dropped The April sky Seems pastel painted Onto the lenses before your eyes We talked about the government, the Internet And you wondered when I’d ever Realize You said, ‘the only hope is the Present moment, cyclical and Interpersonal.’ We never related About interfacing And my depression was Non-negotiable Chorus On the aching boulevard It made too much sense To tell each other Goodbye Not sure what you wanted by meeting We didn’t click, I never thought You needed to apologize But before we parted You offered an embrace And your arms were still So thick and strong That lingering sense Of an unfinished sentence Dissolved upon your whisper, “Cheer up Julia, the weather’s getting warm.” Chorus.

New York Summer Live And forgive It’s New York summer Grieve Don’t leave It’s New York Summer Fly But don’t die Lest faith be torn asunder Survive And thrive It’s New York Summer The policemen And drug dealers Are serenading you The Yankees and The Homeless Want to rendezvous On River Avenue Its New York Summer Cry Don’t simply sigh Its New York summer Sweat For respect Its New York summer Never look Remotely shook While visiting your mother Sizzling pavement scenes Big money dreams Its New York summer The actress and Prostitute Want to interrogate you The Mets And the Tourists Wouldn’t know what to do If they had to rescue you Its New York Summer

Lyrics by Matt Waters and Zara Adam-Waters I never think of you Except when I hear “greed is good,” It takes me back To what I misunderstood The way you looked every night Like you could never fail You always hated the ending When the villain went to jail I couldn’t help stalling in love Despite your disarming charm I almost sold my dreams To be the one on your arm Would it be a love song If we found a way through Would it have been so wrong? To have forgiven you Would it be a love song If there hadn’t been an ending If instead of breaking We spent the rest of our lives bending Oh, oh, oh, time is time Oh, oh, oh, one hour goes by Oh, oh, oh, not like one of us died Oh, oh, oh, they say its part of life The way days accumulate With only a top and bottom My heart ices over As each summer gets hotter But smoke got in your lies And the market collapsed You got bitter, quiet Your worst habits relapsed I couldn’t crawl the line I couldn’t be your bohemian doll It feels like we once shared a name I can no longer recall Would it be a love song If we found a way through Would it have been so wrong? To have forgiven you Would it be a love song If there hadn’t been an ending If instead of breaking We spent the rest of our lives bending

I Know Better Ice cold morning A hole in my shoe I have to make some money To afford fast food It is raining razor blades But I’m in a good mood Everyone gets lucky sometimes I’m about due People bleed in different places diamond-shaped cuts in their faces Gashes on their elbows and knees Turn to ice-sealed scabs at 11 degrees I know better To be undermined by bad weather You shouldn’t be swayed By the well-meaning brigade Who want reality quarantined In their living room I don’t like parties I do like you Blistering summer evening The concrete undulates I’m strolling the neighborhood Off the 3 AM train The moon is an empty plate My mind and body are plagued By the realization of wherever I go My malady refracts in new array Everyone has the right advice I’m unemployed, they’re Jesus Christ Preaching a sermon of responsibility to me Because I’m on an indefinite vacation after my bachelor’s degree I know better To be undermined by bad weather You shouldn’t be swayed By the well-meaning brigade Who want reality quarantined In their living room I don’t like parties I do like you Coda: Well you don’t judge me You have this habit of just listening The same way cardinals perch On branches and absorb another day Beginning and ending They are programmed to fly, die, eat And perhaps barely understand what they are It was a long, lonely summer The first time I played my guitar And it was a dark, cold winter Only a little while after that I disappeared through a number of indistinct doors With an NY upon my hat

Island of Broken Boys This piece of plastic Is fantastic Accompanies me Through the sullen snow Our future recedes It was once orgiastic Now I practice Forgetting what I know The chief of police Held a press conference I watched it through the Window of a bar Where a faceless man Stirred a gin and tonic Watched a commercial With a pretty, singing star Jammed a cold hand in my overcoat And I continued onward The masses seem disillusioned With hope Now they’re starting To talk a bit tougher Chorus: And if you could fix This brokenness There’d be no reason to love you So my salvation Is a fabrication I refuse to invest in And if I could soothe Your Jazz Age blues You’d have no reason to need me So your depression Is actually an obsession With the theory of original sin ………………….. My screen feeds Endless imagery A repository for the Past It provides no epiphany But keeps me company Like a looping late-night News broadcast I’m notified To my surprise That my phone thinks I’m lost It recommends A taxi ride And calculates The cost Wondered near the Seaport sea And my boots Crunch upon the frost Your text message Reminds me Solidarity Is love unlost Chorus On an island Of broken toys Where the brutalism is Authentic You showed mercy To one lucky boy So the sewer mulch May be romantic In the time of The broken mirror Where the meaning Of morality is questioned In each other’s mind We find a glimmer Of the love that Must be protected Modern idealogues In a screen Who won’t feel the violence They advocate I take these walks Away from me Before returning home to you To create

Performing my song ‘Luck & Love’ on the West Side of Manhattan.

These Psychic Fields From the hotel window The city is a kaleidoscope Of blurred light In the bedroom mirror You voice your positive affirmation Once, and then twice The nightstand offers A torn pack of baseball cards And an empty bottle of Sapporo You watch another Twilight Zone Incredulous at the idea There’s two hours until tomorrow These psychic fields That connect you & me It has to be real Our gap in notoriety You feel like you are no one Not even worth the Strings I strum In the lounge there is a locker Left abandoned Tagged with graffiti Everyday you see a skull exploding While dining on your And memory There was a moment of momentum And then all the good luck Abruptly stopped They considered you for the picture Which was tinted and angled And you were unfortunately cropped Chorus You think about my life How you’d love to live in music And sleep on a tour bus You have one of mine Stuck in your head Specifically the chorus You daydream of wearing A leather jacket loaded With money and swagger When ponder living Someone else’s life The details never seem to matter Chorus Two men staring at the same city Only, from different Windows I am burden by the excess Of hope I carry While you nurse your thimble We both got drunk Couldn’t dream, even with A warm body in our bed Neither of us could touch The sudden snowfall upon All the living and the dead Chorus So, both of us wandered Out of our hotels Which were directly across the street It turns out Madison Avenue Is a perfect place for Strangers to meet We made eye contact, commented Mutually on the flurries, you joked about The shabby slippers on my feet Though you probably regretted never mentioning the album You once made Your humor before fate, Allowed me later to stop resisting sleep And fade Chorus Coda: What’s the worth of two men? One having more than the other Could we have been friends? Discussed both having a mother We separate ourselves, defined through Cause, career, and achievement We stare up at shadowy walls In the evening Having never really believed In any of it 1. Chorus

Talking all things Yankees hot stove in late November!

Paradox World Sometimes at night I fall into soft shadows Because the way of the stray Is to shelter from harm Then the bread-truck is unloading While the birds are calling From perches above the boulevard It’s like an algorithm remembering your favorite song I’m ambivalent about sunlight Like when these gridlocked cars On narrow blocks sweat like battalions Led by someone terribly wrong And we’re in a paradox world Someone love me into submission A paradox world Someone guide my hand in composing This transmission A paradox world There’s always tomorrow until tomorrow Paradox World Time takes life, it doesn’t borrow Now the flakes fall at twilight With the streetlights turned on It looks like static in my vision Camouflages the crosswalk No one asks if I’m lonely They only stare like I don’t belong They might find I have old music inside If they ever wanted to talk Is it the scythe or the hood? Which they find so off-putting Sometimes they run, others just turn white As their outlines in chalk It’s a paradox world I have centuries of notes It’s a paradox world Full of promises and high hopes

Twilight of the Gods It wasn’t about hope They just couldn’t take a joke But they let you run your mouth Because it gave them more rope You said they’d remember your name For all the honor in literary fame But you wound up crying outside your mother’s In the rain Twenty-five years to retire An indefinite date to expire Almost got fired over a pothole Dad never taught you how to change a tire Twilight of the gods Overcome by the odds Blasting out the bad thoughts With the music in our cars Twilight of the gods Fate shuffled all our cards Is the mud deep enough To plant a basketball hoop in the yard? And what of your friend’s silver dreams? All the pool parties, beers, rehearsed scenes You’ve got to be slapped by real life To comprehend what fantasy means You always had a soft spot for Angela Even when she yelled at ya The flower in her hair Was a yellow chrysanthemum And her soulmate Blaine’s persistent tinnitus Combined with his chronic right shoulder bursitis Compromised the showcase after those Fringe suits had hyped it Twilight of the gods Overcome by the odds Blasting out the bad thoughts With the music in our cars Twilight of the gods Fate shuffled all our cards Is the mud deep enough To plant a basketball hoop in the yard? To whom do you owe the pleasure? Of carrying on You don’t even need To fill out a form You just keep waking up Even when you’ve had enough To take your swing, shoot your shot

Paradigm

At The National Show A cloudless summer day Got off the wrong stop on the train Before the low-hanging night Was engulfed by rain I was walking through the park And the show decided to start Heard the man singing about soul And I moved nearer to take part Had ventured out solo Instead of staying home A few of my recent dates Were like talking to a stone I swear I felt you there And in my memory I see your hair Hanging off the back of a black raincoat You always say you’d never wear Isn’t it funny? How we almost met before we met That was a world ago At The National show I was so goddamn tired of being alone Aimless empire nights Patrolling shadows beneath the lights Staring into some tinted window Set at an unreachable height I emailed gibberish to my professors Because I was nobody’s successor I just couldn’t bridge that distance between Anonymous and successful It was like I could disappear Without having any there to get back here There was only rock and roll baseball To treat my lancing fear Chorus Strolling with soggy shoes Following the mid-set monsoon I was thinking about The Land of Oz And destined for my quiet bedroom It was only four more months Until I’d feel your touch Previously my love life had been like An album release where nobody comes It was first the sound of your voice Inviting me into a choice The tone was like smoky cinnamon Incinerating every other noise I’d torn up a lottery ticket Over someone’s rude opinion I’d rather the dignity of a nobody Instead of being a paid minion Chorus

When It Rains These Days Have you ever felt Like you were just watching your life? Staying alive Opting for flight instead of fight The hours pass They assume you have nothing better to do Than to pace in a room Speaking the untrue Lightening in the sky The twilight of the popular mind If the wind-up toys ever remember They made themselves blind And when it rains These days It feels like forever And when you ask When I might feel better I say, “maybe, baby, if we Get a change in the weather.” Have you ever known? You were throwing it away Based on a bill due to pay Tomorrow and yesterday For everything we want Because what we believe we need And compromise is an indignant child With an open mouth to feed Yet if you don’t participate They will find another Who wears your clothes, cashes your check And visits your mother And when it rains These days It feels like forever And when you ask When I might feel better I say, “maybe, baby, if we Get a change in the weather.” Have you ever wondered Who is living in your house? When you see it from the street Inside a shadow of doubt So kick some burnt leaves Into the gutter of your youth We’re all running out of time Which we may accept or refuse The conclusion is in doubt If it remains the same regardless Between gravity, the moon, deep sleep Servants, saints, the faithful and godless And when it rains These days It feels like forever And when you ask When I might feel better I say, “maybe, baby, if we Get a change in the weather.” Coda: All under the same sky Imprisoned by the same why All frozen in time Through a ghost lover eyes

Blunderland The streetlights glowed Chrystal white Against a confetti veil Of falling snow We looked to the left, looked to the right Picked nowhere in particular To go The champagne was nestled In the crook of your scarecrow arm We thought we’d spend The rest of our lives Never hearing an alarm Blunderland, Blunderland I guess it’s hard to understand How heavy reality rests In the palm of an ordinary man Blunderland There was a man dressed Like Santa Slumped against a blue mailbox His cotton-beard was decorated With an authentic December frost You leaned to touch his shoulder He acted like he’d been throttled He called you a cop And tried stealing your Cherry-tinted bottle Blunderland, Blunderland We got into our hotel And there was an isosceles On the wall You gazed upon The street beneath us Said, “it doesn’t feel like I thought.” So I held you from behind Put a peck on your left ear Told you, “You’ve only been Conditioned by cinema, my postmodern dear.” Blunderland, Blunderland But still you were troubled And ambled for the inviting emerald Loveseat With a mirthless sigh and muttered, “why,” You kicked the suede boots from Your ballerina feet You let the bubbly Simply sink against your side I was suddenly gripped by the realization You would never be my bride Blunderland, Blunderland I said, “Monica, please rise,” And your fluttered eyes meant you were Listening I told ya, “don’t let this city get you down, because someday We’ll be reminiscing,” Over the whirlwind since graduation And the noises in our heads The little crack in the corner of your ceiling Where those nocturnal spiders Spun their fragile webs Blunderland, Blunderland

Have I been too much of a cynical Yankees fan? Does it have to do with a 'Boomer mentality' that I subconsciously adopted?