My friends tend to laugh when I bare my soul
and slowly nod when I tell a joke
These things occur to me only when I’m high
and might have no truth whatsoever
I’m most honest when purely drunk
yet somehow pure belief still eludes me
Strange how my worst lies are the most believable
since I tend to succeed at that which interests me least
Sacred cows give milk to the poor
and the poor throw up on their shoes
if they’re lucky and then of course
clouds have more ambition than I want
Photograph by Kym Ghee
–Michael Randall
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Photographs Poetry