DUMB KID SHIT.

By: Taylor Rossi

I remember you saying you wanted to taste the pavement, The cars racing on our way to prom,

Seven teenagers in a five seater,

Station Wagons and sequins,

Drinking in the middle of a field,

Slow dances and dinners,

Backyard shows and backseat makeouts,

Mass in the morning,

Uniforms and bookstores,

Homemade bongs and long walks home,

Time moved slower

Comfortably,

Things sped up too fast.

And I didn't recognize myself the morning after.

READ MORE great poetry in this year’s edition of the MOORPARK REVIEW.