Exacerbation Poem by GRANT FRASER

What about the man who
couldn't learn anything,

And had to arrive at the exact
same place inside his head,

what about him,
what about us - they scream!
I mean - we can't go anywhere
either...

But the man in this head,
felt really - really - really -
dead!

And couldn't live without
thinking for a second, that a way
out exists...

You better try painting everything
as you find it,

Every tiny little detail and nuance,
Jutting out like sharp glass,

And a solution therein
to escape into it, to reabsorb
then bleed,
To color this addled portion
of a brain,

Give me your word,
make it a bird,
a proper outline at least,
or even the fingerprint of a ghost,

But No! No! No!

Until he shaved his face off!
which was anything but amazing,

This landscape really sucks me dry!

And there he stood, until the sky
enveloped him and dragged him forth
into that moment when you really
question everything, and don't know
why your even here or what...