C.V.10. Poem by GRANT FRASER

More time cogitating
over dying,
and under
what circumstances,
or likelihood,
of what it might be?

When I was
really young,
I couldn't escape
the Apocalyptic bomb!

Now a host
of other likely things,
suspend me,

Not only that,
but I dangle off
the edge of self
so much,

I get stomach cramps,
and these inner Jolts,
like electro-shocks!

And all balance
and propriety
gets sucked out...

Until some horrible
useless being,
(myself)
half double back's -
perplexed, amazed!

"Humans are nothing but
misery...",

Whom cajole and thrive thru
the moment as if it were
nothing,

Grant
your one of them,
common little F*****R!
(of the momentum,)

Pulse, it will disappear,
at some point,
on this everyday hanging,
in a closer time,
Not so far far away...