City Of Gold Poem by Tom O'Brien

City Of Gold



CITY OF GOLD

I walk this city of twenty-six year olds
With their narrow suits and three-o-clock faces
Their heads full of twitter-speak
And their pockets full of aces.
Cast die to self and follow number seven;
If I say a prayer for redemption
Will I get a free bus ride to heaven?

Tuesday, February 21, 2017
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