We met at Yorklio’s
(franchise food for folks
with no alternative)
and mapped our next move.
We were trapped:
there was no one
we wouldn’t offend.
(Yorklio’s was made
to make ten men rich
while they watched us
with cigar-butt eyes
and strategized)
We didn’t believe in this world.
If we said what we meant
again and again we would say
we didn’t believe in this world.
So…maybe…we…
should mutter this under
every sentence we said
and shout it after every
catastrophe and maybe
(Yorklio’s now
was crowded and loud)
something would happen.
Then we paid and got out.
.
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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