matt fromm (march 24 1982 / los angels, ca.)
blow out the candles
now its a party, yesterdays revisited cant get drunk no more.
cant find my old buddies who were never really my frineds.
but still.., .
reckless abandon in the night.
then a can of beans.
winter in spring
father mutters about hair cuts and working for his wife.
pretend to decieve.
looking to retrieve.
even the government cant relieve.
now its music, genreless but still great of course.
hot thunder all through out the bar
wondering how many more people will step on my italian shoes as i hold up the just digging on tunes.
sweet dreams later on, the studio elders inform me that the secret is glorious.
they open there mouths and part the cosmic rays that dazzle and confuse.
i wake up, see the sun, shut my eyes, then re open.
no longer confused, but still perplexed.
31 years old.
whats gonna happen?
Comments about this poem (blow out the candles by matt fromm )
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