These Days - Poem by matt fromm
When the tecate aint going down so well
when the memories of yesterdays b.s. aint going down so well
when the 12 steps, and relatives and former friends who don't return your phone calls and everything else. fuckin irs
aint goin down so well. what to do?
learn to speak Spanglish?
learn to learn?
to hell with that.
lets think instead about sensitivity training.
lets think instead about the flies who like us.
lets think about our vanity
and maybe utopia.
why wont someone just beat the shit out of me in my sleep.
i'm a mammas boy and a fraud. I have special training.
training they don't teach to th secret service. scared to death they are.
or perhaps their just selfish.
I can relate
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about These Days by matt fromm
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.