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And yet.

Sometimes I phone you just to listen to
your voice on your answer machine.
I want to see if I still miss you.
I sneeze.
That tells me I do.

Memories replay.
You told me you would use me but not abuse me.
You lied.
Just a promise given then discarded.
One of many.

I told you I just wanted to be friends.
That was a lie.
I fell in love with you.
I loved you.
No  lie.

I miss you.
No lie.
And yet.
And yet you broke my heart .
That still hurts.
And that too is not a lie.

Andy Fox 100517

Water.

A bottle of water for a shower.
A can of coke instead of a brew.
I am parked in a lay-by miles from anywhere
hoping to god that my bowels are empty.
I have never taken an open air dump.
I have no desire to start now.

Waking before the alarm goes off.
Waiting for day break.
For dawn.
Wondering where the fuck I am and how I got here.
My eyes still red from a night drive

A voice comes over from the radio.
Prayer for the day.
“May your god keep you safe.” said in unctuous tones/
I smile less than graciously.
“Mine is an absolute twat.” I say softly.
“Ask me how I fucking know.”

Andy Fox 040517
May the fuckin fourth be with you,

I wrote today though not of here.
I wrote of a family split and partially reformed.
I wrote of a fantasy world.
Of a child held down by his elder brother.
Of the child held down by his brothers friends.
I wrote that his brothers girlfriend branded him with an M.
Not M for Martin,for that is his name,
but M for Mutant.
Martin is an empath .
He can Feel another’s feelings.
His brother cannot.
Empaths frighten him though why he cannot say.
He himself lacks empathy.
He had his brother branded as a mutant.
One day, quite soon, his brother will have justice.
You see Martin is also a Berserker.
Genetics play their part in my fantasy world.
An empathic Berserker is the stuff of dreams.
And of a bully’s nightmares.

Andy Fox 090417

I want.

“I want” he said.
The words were coated in a saccharine smile.
“I want what you have got.
“What you made for yourself.
I want it.
Give it to me now.”

Inside I was furious.
‘How dare you?
Haven’t you taken enough from me?
You have taken my time.
My freedom.
Isn’t that enough?’

I looked at him.
“No.” I said.
I did not let my anger show.
“I made them for me.
For my garden.
You have taken enough from me.”

He didn’t like my response.
I am past caring.
What I have I have earned.
That includes my self respect.

This is my scream of frustration.
My wail of hurt.
No more and, sadly, no less.
For this is my safest outlet for my anger.
My poetry.

Andy Fox 070417

I would call you but the call would be ignored.
So what would be the point?
You used me as a sounding board just as I used you.
I don’t know what you are doing now so this is my board.

My father has cancer again.
His third different kind.
I am my mothers sounding board.
I don’t mind.She needs an ear.
She has mine.

I struggle with memories of you.
Sometimes I cry.
What did I do to get a woman who lies?
Face yourself.

My cats are doing well.
Young and old give me companionship.
Sure they fight.
But they sleep by my side.

I hear folk tell me that children
should look after their elderly parents.
I am my parents child.
I am fifty five.

Tell me to my face ho your love life is going.
Are you still cheating on another mans wife?
You can complain all you want about my attitude.
I am not the adulterer here.

If you want to complain about my attitude?
here is your chance.
Tell me I am a bastard.
Tell me to go to hell.

Look in the mirror and ask yourself why.
Why did he get so angry when I told him the truth.
Answer yourself honestly.
I couldn’t do it to his face.
I am a fucking coward.

Andy Fox 230317

Calm storm.

Calm here.
Writing stories that take me away.
Listening to the music of the past
and the music of today.
Being the door opener for the cats.
Cruel interruptions to my trains of thought.
Offloading emotions into barrels of electrons.
Sealing them but loosely.
They can escape if they want to.
Not saying I miss her.
Watching barrel cat walk down the garden path.
Looking out waiting for skinny cat to come home.
Developing the relationship between a long lost family.
A one I invented.
She told me to write what I know about.
Fantasy is far more fun.
Dragonets and Berserkers and empaths.
A different world.
A calmer storm.

Andy Fox 190217

Falling words.

Melancholy Baby plays tunes in my head.
I respond with high class jazz.
Mister Doldrums sings me the blues of lovers lost.
I sing duets with Satchmo in reply.

Yes my father has another bout of cancer.
Yes my mother needs my support.
What is that to do with you?

Mister Despair talks to me slowly.
I rattle off drumbeats in his face.
Mister Sloth tell of the joys of laziness.
After working a fifteen hour day I fall into bed.

Mister Bathroom sings of the joy of flooding.
I pack sealant around the shower.
I mop up the bathroom when it fails.

Mistress Love phones to tell me her news.
In all the years that I have been loving her
she has been the lover of another.
My tears make poems run red with anger.

Mister OldKitten falls asleep in my arms.
I keep the promise I gave him.
Mister Barrel raises green eyes into mine.
I tell him I love him.

Mistress No-Response does not answer my calls.
Friendship killed by betrayal.
Those I asked once for help refused me then.
I will not ask them now.

Mister Food speaks to me lovingly.
My waistband grows in response.
They hide in plain sight do Calories and Tiredness.
I give in an comfort eat.

My father has another bout of cancer.
He is undergoing chemotherapy as we speak.
My body is too big and I need to change.
To all things an end.

Andy Fox 050217
This is 5 Feb 2017. 1355hrs.
This fell from my fingers..