Writings by Thomas Radwick. Mostly poetry and lyrics. t_radwick@yahoo.com

Head Home

After work you almost get
a hard-on from greasy bikini
beer ads in a liquor store.
Oily
olé! Buy a bag of
Unsalted Penis
(PEANUTS!)

instead. Smile shyly at
a strangely unsleazy
middleaged Mediterranean
clerk who beams back
beneath boiling black

curls. Leave. Breathe.
Imagine an ocean
beyond the black asphalt.
Smell the sea salt
as the tide slides

to the sand’s end
and the sun bends
to the edge of the Earth.
Day’s done. Head home.
A car blurts a heralding horn.



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Crack in the Ceiling

Poetry by Thomas Radwick

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