Spontaneous Writings of Matt Brand 715

on a Saturday afternoon


Who's staying
under the sun
tonight; where

all the beautiful
scared friends,
blown heels spent
running past hills

into the brain-
fire escape. Who's
still and dancing
to old composure
sheets littered
with future nostalgia
bobby pins; architect

love eyelashes
to build out of
memories collapsing
in hurricanes of
time past between
health food aisles
and new jobs at old
factories.

Where do the movie-goers
play outside of the gelled
hair and drying streams;

Autumn promised nothing,
and the last of summer smiled
knowingly, through rich impossible blue
on a Saturday afternoon.