Panama Gold - Poem by matt fromm
I got a little burried tresure Hidden deep in my brain.
The mystical green gold of Panama
Showing me what heaven must look like.
And it looks like
me and the boys
Blazing as much as our collected thirty bucks would allow.
Under the bridge.
Talking about cruising on down to Mexico.
Groovin to an old tune entitled ' Lost due to Incompotence'.
Feeling so high.
The after school sunlight bouncing off our innocent backs.
Dirty Culver City stream water bubbling furiously
while we blasted our lungs off straight into manhood
Or something like it.
Firmly believing we were invincible young braves.
Part of the skate board tribe.
Laughing at consequence, we ride down the avenue never dreaming we'd have to get older.
The tragedy is that we did.
I couldn't recognize them today if I wanted to,
and I don't.
But for old times sake, to commemorate an invisible legacy I'll set forrest fire and exhale magic into the o-zone in honor of the homies.
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