Matthew Sradeja

To Toledo 
To packed up memories, to friends separated but, never forgotten
To Goal Diggers and Sacred Heart Lions
To winter to high density mercury bright white snow
Under a silent sun without anything warm to say
After school days on small streets where we froze
In igloos or rolling snow boulders
To packed up memories
Tony Packo’s and the Hungarian festival
And The Paris night club
Where I was king of M & M’s
To Prangs Candy Store and Deli
At the corner of Licking Street and Mott Avenue
To the Union 76 gas station
Where we could buy worms and head down
To the banks of the Maumee and catch fish
And the orange sign that reminded me of Reece’s pieces
And all the poetry venues across the city
As the years have passed by
To Sam and Andy’s to Brewed Awakenings
The Collingwood Arts Center and The Black Kite

Blasted Highway Entanglements
Bright lights (laughing in parenthesis)
That is the way words sooth me
And these long rides are amazing
Until I am drowned in a pool of sound
And whip crack light
That dribble drabble across the highway
Such as it is a mother feeds her baby with a spoon
I lose my breath I have to get off
Away from my getting away and cool down
Find a place to stretch out
Where no one thing can keep this imagination down
That is when I find myself in these
Little rubber dust burnt up places
Along the highway that has killed
So many mangled minds before me
A room no less black and white
Than the foggy frames of a dusty
Movie reel from a time long gone
Alone I shape worlds
Intense little images
Animal shaped shadows
On the thin skinned wall
Of another Oswald hotel
Cheesy wallpaper crisp shadows
Peeling away from thoughtless
Landscapes
Shadows projected onto an unkempt mind
From the lamp on the nightstand through
The Carolina smoke of a mad cigarette
When everything is Chinese and cheap
Except for the volume of the neon
Bright lights (laughing in parenthesis)
There’s just no more room left at the inn
Promote. Poetry.
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