From a Cafe in Boston

Thanks to our Blog tipper David who found this poem taped to a cafe wall in Boston…

Quarterlife – by Wallace Asteroid

Clock struck 3 and sun now falling
i feel the threads inside me burn
no twith fiery love or rage
but caustic churn of capricious age

i want to solve the day’s dilemmas
but still have time for me alone
i long to focus and be true,
yet still carouse and roll and roam

who am i? who am i?
all us twenty somethings mumble
this world asks so much of me
I fear my first step be a stumble

once over the cliff of graduation
we free-fall into unknown hands
some wonder if their parachutes
are only fixed by tattered strands

it’s now “our moment”, life’s champagne prime
yet we feel our glass is almost drained
toss it back – yes! – and hit the sack
time spent lingering is nothing gained.

No soul can say what happens next
oracles’ lips stiff still as stone.
I’m not afraid to ask directions
though my goal stays pleasantly unknown

The indifferent operator pulls the lever
and the merry-go-round spins blurry
You’ll say to me “is this thing safe?”
I’ll say “what, me worry?”