Backroom Poem by Matthew Foor
Backroom
In the backroom I sit
Pool balls crack
John mumbles
"Into the blue…"
"Into the blue…"
He's shooting the
Blue number two
Into whichever hole
Radio chatter
Whispers from
His ear buds
My voices become worse
I take a break to gather my thoughts….
….picking up my pen
I try to write again
Its 15 minutes later now
Voices have subsided
For now….
It's to no avail
I've lost it
For now….
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 7:08:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
