Hey Fireflies, Strike The Match and Start The Burn

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a poem. See here: I suck at titles, so that's what I've got, but I'll think of something better.

Submitted: July 06, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 06, 2008

A A A

A A A


take the stairs/and forget the elevator lights

the ding to the final floor/the whoosh of the open door

this is a rough draft/penned in the deafening static of a too-late TV screen

channels set on rewind/this is a final spell check

poster children for grammar never looked do good at ten to one

this could be jealousy

this could be nervous jitters

jump-jump-jump

'til your heartbeat is four-four time/and your stomach's in your throat

burning like a paper trail

strike the match and light the fire/this speech is a race to the end

it's the whirring hum of fan blades/and the click-click-click-eject of a phrase

drop a line

for the sake of posterity, what's your name again?

ballpoint pen smudges are memory traces I find in my bed/in the frenzy of clean and hiding things

I write desperate and trying oh-so-hard


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