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

Opening

The key grooves in the lock
as if toothless
and the door swings inward
to admit me.
I lift a switch:
dawn!
The office is on.



.

The Candidate

“My it’s hot in here!”
says the fat man

interviewing you
across a conference room table

then his face melts away
in clots of hot putty

that spread into a puddle
on the table

that leaks into a pool
on the floor

and a raw cracked
skull clacks

jittery xylophone
tick tock staccato

tapdance clattering
snaredrum battering

raps at you
without a breath

and your eyes jerk away
from the hollow swallowing you

into the holes in the skull
and the windows are filled

with huge red suns
and god it’s hot as hell



.

Bang! Bam! Boom!

The stocks flowed easy
Then the stock just froze
Thousands lost their houses
When the market closed
But what about the people
Who dreamed the scheme?
They own a thousand houses
They’ve never seen

Bang! Bam! Boom!
Ain’t it funky now!
Bang! Bam! Boom!
Really gettin’ down!
Bang! Bam! Boom!

You got no house
And you got no rent
So you heap all your hopes
On the government
To guide us and to guard us
And to see us all through
Then you learn the government
Is dead broke too

Bang! Bam! Boom!
Ain’t it funky now!
Bang! Bam! Boom!
Really gettin’ down!
Bang! Bam! Boom!

Our minds are twisted
And the world is torn
Everywhere the planet
Is scarred with war
But that’s about the way
It’s always been
So step through the wreckage
With a knowing grin

Bang! Bam! Boom!
Ain’t it funky now!
Bang! Bam! Boom!
Really gettin’ down!
Bang! Bam! Boom!



.

Common Blues

Have you ever heard a murmur
Deep inside your head
That tells you to do something—
And you do something else instead?

When you’re by yourself
Do you feel you’re not alone?
You’re always with some body
Who knows everything you’ve done

Do you need a witness
To prove that you exist?
Is the face you face the world with
Really yours or is it his?

We’re always making choices
And our choosing’s never done
Hell’s a possibility
Anytime for anyone

Are you ever lonesome
When you stare up at the stars—
And wonder in the darkness
How far away you are?



.

Crack in the Ceiling

Poetry by Thomas Radwick

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