matt fromm (march 24 1982 / los angels, ca.)
Biography of matt fromm
matt fromm Poems
Blowing Bong Hits At The Moon
For all I know This could be the last show. But I'm too young to hang up the clown suit just yet. Re-running happily frightening images of wher I come from. Where I've been.
Oh, He's So Clever
I told the ol' boy I had no money Nothing, Nada,
Marriage. Yes, The subject has come up, The old girls even dropped subtle hints. Christ.
In My Lawn Chair
I'm so hungry I can't eat. I'm so in love her abuse reminds me she's there. Now on sunset and Doheny where many a merlotnight was spent. I AM a hopeless romantic
Can'T Even Name Her.
Just give me a hand Just help me out And the moon is just a Big toenail right now
Is It Really Gone?
Fruit cakes in alleyways. Starving actors for pay. Mixed in the shuffle of the city. That is to say the billboardians. You walk down L.A. streets You feel the sweat on your hands and the cold on your neck.
Your Place In The Pages
When I'm searching for a midnight surprise I stop and wonder how you could ever be mine again. When I'm burning all the memories of you And I do so by taking giant lingering breathes
I still recal the sound of the 2 A.M. trains from your open bedroom window. Nestled between a hidden life and your bedspread choking on your flame colored hair.
Well, I took a shower for an hour and that was just the other day. I gotta look my swellest for the ball or premiere or what ever they're calling it these days.
I looked in the mirror this morning and an honest man shooting daggers back at me. i coughed in defense at the weak image i saw, after i inhaled some smarts. I ate the forbidden fruit when you told me not to.
Pipe Wrench Fantasy
You know I never thought I'd be there. at the bottom of it. Scraping the thick sticky floor for something I can take home. I found a rare flower floating gracefully on top. I picked it.
Hey... Blonde Girl
The fly has got the spider in the corner and is now f! ckin away. She never saw it coming. Smooth legs between which lies the enterance to heresy.
Straight Jacket Waltz
Whistling at the bus stop and my book bag ways heavy. I Stagger and shuffle down the boulevard.
Are You Alright
this is the last day i'll be alive the lady at the liquor store asked if I was gonna be alright she is old tired.
The subject has come up,
The old girls even dropped subtle hints.
Even my friends and family
Have come right out and said it.
There's no need, really, to repeat it.
It went something like