Author Archives: marcofreschi

About marcofreschi

I live in the Ocean and write poetry

indefinite definition (vivi la tua vita.)

life swirls in Styrofoam cups of coffee

drank in through cracked lips & yellowed teeth

life twinkles in the distance,

flashing red bulbs above cell towers

stared at from highways on nights without sleep.

life is in the smile Of a waitress in the diner,

3 am cigarrette break & tips are all she has-

life lives in the tears

of every single divorced dad.

the same life that lives in leftovers,

tupperwared & saran-wrapped,

comes out your other end in the piece of shit you shat.

life is in the bottles That you’d smash to pieces with your friend

And life is really what you make it,

you’ll find out in the end.


life on the roof of the world (life everywhere?)

a little magic is gone from the world when

Eskimos doing blow

call women cunts in their tents,

blood-red eyes &

toothless grins

as they slap you on the back

& expect you to join in.


midnight on the interstate (& i didnt feel so great.)

sometimes i sit alone At night in a tent

with me, myself & the smell of my own ball-sweat

critical thinking & adventures in solitude

love company sometimes, if only just a text-message

from another guy

books i’ve read

& thoughts ive kept

within my head

are hard to get out

when i dont want

to open my mouth

One time a woman told me

im a smart person

& those words brought tears to my eyes

which sometimes i squeeze Shut

& im in the Liberty Science Center in a sleeping bag

with a sleeping dad

6 years old & Jersey City couldnt be more magical

I open my eyes & im in a sleeping bag,

side of the highway

gravel crunches as i shift

its cold & i

squeeze my eyes again,

trying to get back-

 

i never thought that im smart, & i never said im brave

maybe i never said those things

because im really just afraid.


America (the land, the people, & what marco thinks.)

Lonely young American man Born & raised in American land

Hair gown long & skin is tan

born with the name American

sees the world through red, white,

blue

the land of the brave, the free,

the few.

 


hitchhike fright night (for the native women of the yellowhead highway.)

you can hitchhike all night

in the land of the midnight sun

stick out a thumb and trust someone

but know that

women

dont hitchhike

on the Highway of Tears.


big world (small marco.)

Marco mans a little lost Without the dinerboys and the union boss, Italian kids in leather jackets, parking lot nights & streetlights that glow through the dark of New Jersey, the stuff we used to know, The Cups of coffee and pretty girls we never spoke to, K-Mart crushes long gone, concrete basements where We shared dreams not drugs, and talked about the kids we graduated with, How somehow, some of them made it, Our worlds were so small And we never knew that the world was so big, We never knew that it didnt end at Manhattan But I guess nothings the same as it was except the tattoos & the scars, Cause chainlink fences come down, and people sell cars.

Sometimes I think though, How did i get here? Where’s the world I used to know? Cause the one I’m in is pretty big, and it’s easy to get lost.


beloved by god.

Float like a Butterfly

sting like a bee-

his hands can’t Hit

what his Eyes can’t see

The greatest ever

in death now free

the brave the strong

Muhammad Ali


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