By D.C. Randall
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I beg you to cease your antics—
………..You’ve gouged him in the eye!
You need to call an ambulance—
………..Or he will surely die
D.C. Randall is a writer in their late twenties. They live in eastern Washington where they work on a farm and sometimes publish small pieces of creative writing anonymously. Or try to, anyway. Hobbies include going for walks, kicking things until they explode, and—after recently finding a copy of On Certainty in one of those little free libraries—pretending to understand whatever it is that Wittgenstein was on about. Twitter: @warmedsoda
Why we chose this piece: This poem is silly. It’s fucking silly, and it makes us laugh. D.C. smashes together two random subjects in a lovely manifestation of the chaotic good. But if you think about it, some of Dickinson’s poems do have a slapstick quality to them—just take a look at “I’m Nobody! Who are you?”. Dickinson and The Three Stooges are more complementary than they would seem on the surface. OK, now someone in college should write an essay on all that. Go!