But you gotta
bliss bus mask on
as you breeze by bright
monoliths of business
and doom bass booms
from black cars
and an old man drives by
with smiling eyes
in a weathered leather face
blessed with the subtle grace
you seek in a loud casino
with the gentle lamps of your eyes
dizzied by obvious prizes
which dull you to the bliss
that could lift you out of this
mess of dazzling noise
but instead you spend your strength
just struggling up from the pit
and that’s your bliss bus
mask my man
striving for the sanity
of a smiling old man
.
Writings by Thomas Radwick. Mostly poetry and lyrics. t_radwick@yahoo.com
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Crack in the Ceiling
Poetry by Thomas Radwick
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