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

Above The Boulevard

My pipe’s smoke makes the face of an angel
Drifting through my little room
A black hole splits the lips of this angel
And sweeps me up through the roof

So I float like a ghost
Who’s been shown where to go

There’s a sea of stars
Above the boulevard
Things are sharp and hard
On the boulevard
Always on your guard

On the boulevard
There’s a sea of stars
Above the boulevard

The hot gaze of a man who’s leering
Like he’s drinking you through his eyes
Shows a hole that’s as big and empty
And as black as a midnight sky

And you know you can float
Though that hole like a ghost

There’s a sea of stars
Above the boulevard
Things are sharp and hard
On the boulevard
Always on your guard

On the boulevard
There’s a sea of stars

Above the boulevard


The calm flash of a stranger’s smile
On a crowded noisy street
Throws the glow of an open blossom
Into your uncertainty

And you know you can float
In that glow so you go

There’s a sea of stars
Above the boulevard
Things are sharp and hard
On the boulevard
Always on your guard

On the boulevard
There’s a sea of stars
Above the boulevard




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Crack in the Ceiling

Poetry by Thomas Radwick

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