Who Will You Screw? Poem by matt fromm
Who Will You Screw?
I've been to 27 different bus stations
I got a big old hickey on my left thigh.
I ran you outta here while the gettin was good
Tell me who will you screw?
Who will you screw now babe?
You use to make me fear the sun
now I'm redder than ever.
I drink my coffee as loud as I want
and I'm free to sleep on my stove.
Though constantly looking over my shoulder
there's no more fear of you being there.
I've eaten the last of your cornflakes for the last time.
I don't worry about how the house smells.
The grass is greener.
The visions never more brilliant.
Now tell me, who will you screw?
The night is clear.
The air is sweet.
It's saturday night.
Up on the roof, gazing at the fullest of moons
peeking through the trees and telephone wires while the helicopter circles above looking for the one's who did it.
Flicking my cherry red lighter
taking a nice COOOL hit
Missing you a little
scraming to my self, solitude is king,
being stoned is queen.
The waters never tasted more pure and it's all because you left.
So tell me
who will you screw?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 11:28:59 AM # 1.0.0.1119
it's so funny whne all the weight is lifted off after smeone leaves you or you ask them to leave. it's quite an art form really, more so than getting together, breaking up, separateing, whatever you want to call it, that's where you'll find all the stupid drama. am i right my friend? *your beer and my mixed drink clink together* but i am hapy with my one and only. i am glad you can find joy in freeing yourself.