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Feb 2018 · 876
Peace Before Noon
Andy Randell Feb 2018
I'd feel so at home in Wyoming;
Married to my television
Cigarettes for breakfast
I'm at peace with my shaking
Clipping branches of my tree
To feed my precious pets

I never played the game
Rolling dice around my teeth
But I keep my eyes on the window
Let the creeping wind in my belly
Be all that makes sense
Thrown like a doll in the corner
Unblinking for the longest time
Measured by the shift and click
Twisted legs coiled like cables
Sealing Matthew into his box

America's fables never spoken
Her reputation and misadventures undeserved
Fit like latex on an amateur surgeon
My cardboard house unfolded
Everything in a tanned leather briefcase
I just forgot the combination
827 - 125 and the button slides

Why can't I leave my things in a crate
And ship myself off to a Grecian island?
I could be sung to sleep
Just as in my room
But now, my dear Johnny, Oldboy,
It's gloaming on Elysium
My chest is still beaten upon
I file the cold edges round
Empty another carton and call it a day
Dec 2017 · 967
Watching You Eating Me
Andy Randell Dec 2017
You've been watching them eat
Why would you?
Their gnashing teeth slurping, crushing
******* the cheese off their fingers

Messy, screaming faces
Jaws snapping on sticks
Waiting & devouring
Bending back heads
The crack of dislocation

Your friends know it was your fault
So, who do you blame?

Oh, but the wonder in those eyes
Why could she never share?
You think she wasn't made for her
How it was sussed out before you knew

The string's cut, though still she dances

We all hide in another skin
But the floor was flooded
The ceiling leaked before
Trapped within a guise
Never will they find him
How could they eat so close to you?
How could you watch?
Why would you?
We will put you back together
May 2017 · 440
Evening the Feild
Andy Randell May 2017
The smoke that rose
It's grey to orange bloom
Throwing ash to the air
Bugs dance like ghosts with
Burning bodies darting while
Posing the threat of eating what
Happens to be the flesh on which they land
Pulsing as it was in London
All that now matters is housed
We peak through the windows
Thunderous fog rolls along the harbour
Gutters running over stocked by
Spilt beer and glitter
A girl who lost her shoe unaware
She's leaving her friends to drag
Half-crawling to the stadium
Combing lawns for misplaced cigarettes
Snapping food into her belly
Three more times the bell shouts
And even the sky of fire
Has found it's way off the streets
Apr 2017 · 667
Dogs & Dogs
Andy Randell Apr 2017
Chained by fatigue to the stairs
Of the shrug shouldered parliament
Encapsulated by the coat of the
Hunters that sleep in snow
That sulfur in the ash
Holds many of them in its
Malicious muzzle with the
Indifference of politicians
That both bite and swallow only to
Bloat their collective belly
And will lash at each other
With suicidal ferocity and the
Only reward they foam for is
Reverence of ******* couched
In heavy leather wheelchairs
Venting smoke like the volcanic
Seismic violence and flick the
Cinders into the valley with which
They open only to feel distain towards
While we in sleep close out eyes further still
and further and further still
Apr 2017 · 327
Variations on a Theme
Andy Randell Apr 2017
Show me, the lamb with two horns,
Show me where her's wasn not the wrong,
Show me when her lips didn't drip with honey
Show me when she didn't take without giving
Show me where she didn't play the actress
Show me how many she helped
Show me that they don't wish they hadn't
Show me that they can still find the time
Show me when their needs were considered
Show me it wasn't a ride
Show me how I'm not another
Show me that it's different
Show me how she's changed
Show me how she's good
Show me, please, show me I'm wrong
Apr 2017 · 231
Poppler
Andy Randell Apr 2017
Here my fruit grows
Full and frightful
Deep seeded in fair
Skin the apple; Unfurling flesh
Here my fruit grows

— The End —