Poem

I can’t write you into emotion and leave.

I went bald while in college.

That’s why I have a hat, I learned how
to wear it in Turners Falls

Tough people there
tough kids with bats

I was told my forehead was too big.
Wore my hat.

Backward.
Been in a few fights over that.
Sometimes I win.

Bars look funny when you’re on the inside.

It was a girl btw
who told me my forehead was too big

It’s easy to feel ugly.

-M. Taggart

MasticadoresUSA #Interview

Please ‘click’ on over and check out the interview!

https://masticadoresusa.wordpress.com/2021/07/17/masticadores-interview-matthew-taggart/

“M.- Since when do you write? Was there a specific moment that prompted you to start writing?

5th grade. In tiny hand writing. I still have the story. I begged my teacher to read it. He, Mr. Silverman, told me he needed to use a magnifying glass to read the words.”

https://masticadoresusa.wordpress.com/2021/07/17/masticadores-interview-matthew-taggart/

Thanks to both Juan Re Crivello, Fundador de Masticadores, and the wonderful author and editor Gabriela Marie Milton.

Have a great day!

Matt

The Stump Maker #Published

“Dad, does this girl have blood all over her head under that cloth stuff?”

Gavin was holding my copy of The Shadows of Blackout Island and asked if it was a scary book. I told him a little about it and he asked me to read my story, The Stump Maker, to him.

I’ve been reading a few pages a day, out loud, to Gavin. He’s five. It’s a bit much (possibly) for a five-year-old, but he loves it! He’s asking questions about who Mr. Wilson is and what happened to his son. He’s asking if the Stump Maker is in the woods watching the boys camping overnight. He even asked about the Raven! (I have a thing for Ravens.)

I haven’t gotten to the really creepy part yet. lol. Seriously though, if he asks me to stop reading, that’ll be that. We’ll see how it goes today!

This prompted me to view the amazon listing. Here’s a review:

“A Great Adventure!

I’ve never been one to read books of this nature but I purchased because I am such a fan of the writing of one of the authors in particular (M Taggart). I have read much of his poetry and short stories in the past and always enjoy his creativity.

Aside from his contribution the book is a nice read that pulled me in from the beginning and turning pages one after the other. If you want to get sucked into a moment that you are reading and feel like you are a part of it than this book is for you. I know you will enjoy it like I did. I plan to gift this book to a few folks as well. Enjoy!” -Lori

Edited by Tara Caribou. And I don’t know if any of you have noticed, but Tara is crushing it with the books that she is editing and publishing.

Check it out:
https://taracaribou.com/published-works/

***

As always- Read on, it’s good for the brain!

Matt

Gavin with the jaw dropping line.

“In my last future I’m alive forever.” -Gavin Taggart. 6/21/21. Age 5.

****

I was sitting on the deck with Megan when Gavin landed this line on us. And who am I to tell him anything different. Gavin is five. Sometimes he says things and I look at him with curiosity and wait for more to be spoken. Maybe he’ll dive deeper into his thought process, or, he’ll switch topics and talk about a toy.

This line though….this line though…

Wow.

Gavin was awarded ‘Critical Thinker Award.’ He’s in kindergarten. Gavin was awarded the same award in his pre-K class last year. Gavin was also awarded ‘Most Creative Egg Drop’ by his peers. He selected to have an egg placed in the middle of a watermelon which was dropped from the roof of his school by their Principal. Gavin was the only child to select a food item that would literally explode at impact. It certainly did explode and the kids erupted with joy. The egg didn’t break. Gavin is five and is the youngest child in his class.

During his last week of school, the weather became very hot and humid. He was sent to the principal’s office just after recess ended. From what I understand, he was rather sweaty and walked back into the classroom with the rest of the students. It was at this time when Gavin apparently announced, “This is Fing Awesome!” Yesterday, I asked Gavin why he said that. Gavin told me that it was because he was able to run so very fast in the hot weather and that the weather didn’t affect him. The joy of a child is a beautiful and remarkable thing. Even when they choose inappropriate words to express their happiness.

I think I’ll print this out for Gavin. Maybe he can read it in a few years. Or in his last future. Love you, Gavin. I’m blessed and thankful to be your father.

Cheers everyone, I hope you don’t mind me sharing a little bit of ‘life’ with you.

Matt.

Dream State

It was dark and raining.
“There’s something outside.”
“Did you see someone?”
“No. It’s not a person.”
I tried peering through the rain soaked window.
“It’s upset with you,
and you’re going to feel it from the inside.”

-M. Taggart

As I turned the corner my body was forced forward.
My mind blurred in a frenzied pace.
I had learned so much.

Up This Road

Up this road just a few miles more
is where I lived my worst memories.
Gill. That’s the name of the town.
Lots of cows, brooks and a river.
An editor is trying to help me
push forward with my story.
He’s waiting for my adjustments.
Every time I open it, I’m triggered.
I’ve updated nothing. Maybe I should
drive to this spot, walk a few miles.
Maybe that’ll unlock my leash.
That’s the thing about severe
childhood trauma. You can lock it away,
compartmentalize, as always, but
when it comes down to it it’s
as alive as it always was. Fight or Flight.
I chose to fight. I’m stuck on FIGHT.
Up that road, just a little ways, holds some
of my best memories. Mother. Brothers. Life.

-M. Taggart

A mug full #poem

To have great affection for a pub
is much like missing an old friend,
and when you see that friend
nothing has changed and you sit
down with a mug of beer and
catch up on how the outside
looks from the inside view.

-M. Taggart

You’re nothing but a drunk

My father took a photo.
Me.
Feeding Gavin.

I love this photo.
I chose Gavin over my career.
I was made fun of.
By family. Friends.

Doesn’t much matter.
They are cowards.

Maybe Gavin remembers some.
This worthless drunk took care
of Gavin from the age of 0-3.

Twelve hours a day, alone.
Male.
And I kicked ass.

Scrubbing milk bottles,
changing diapers,
stepping in cat shit
knowing I had minutes
to brew coffee
before the baby was awake

We got this
Men

Don’t let them stomp your life away.

Careers come and go.

We are told opportunity knocks once.

That’s a bunch of Bullshit.

This drunk doesn’t walk in a box
full of benchmarks.

Cheers,

-M. Taggart

Thank you, Dad.

Poem

Driving to the pub, I knew I wouldn’t
like sitting at the bar as much as if
my family was with me, but I drove
anyway and felt the unease of knowing
how I’d already feel while at the bar
with my book. I parked and looked
at the entrance to the pub. It wasn’t
much to look at but I looked anyway.
Inside, it was much as I expected it to be.
The bartender asked where my family was.
I told her that they ditched me. They didn’t
want to come to the pub, this time.
She smiled and said that our son was handsome
and that he was always polite.
I like that things don’t feel as good when I’m
at the pub without my family.
I ordered a Guinness and read from my book,
Growth of the Soil.

-M. Taggart

Growth of the Soil, written by Knut Hamsun.

And the Rain Came

And he had stayed while the rain came down; he had stayed while she sat alone, only a blanket provided comfort, and he looking out the window at the rain thinking about how he might need to leave or to maybe not be in the same place as her, anymore, and the rain came and nothing mattered about any of it other than the thinking of what to do and the thinking of what to do meant something needed to be done.

-M. Taggart