Amphibitheatre Poem by GRANT FRASER

Amphibitheatre



You want to reach
out as far as Space,

and write it on the
face of something
with more longevity,

I can visualise
the dust of time
around me,

convolutions
in demon angel eyes,

don't don't don't
don't don't don't

our crematory body
will blow away,

I walk through town
then a hundred fathoms
down...

until weird looking
fish with blue antenna
dart out and bite me,

but in spite of that
I tear through their
necks and severe the
cables,

what happened to
all the blobs of red
inside me?

then I bite my own
arm off and feed
it to a shoal of words,

see this hand...

I don't trust it!

it has to seize upon
the idea very very fast,

I mean at least to operate
as something that would
seem more possible or real,

as I don't know what it is,
that makes me rabid
with all this tardy expression,

stop heart -
oh! well -
go on do your
little dance,

pulsar!

but watching everyday
like big round
dark reptilian flecked
saucers,

you've got T.V. all over
your face, here take this
and wipe it...

I will smile until the last
fatal bubble - pops,

and we are gone....

Monday, March 31, 2014
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