Hi-Too-Late! Poem by GRANT FRASER

I can't help it
if you always run
back and look,

stare into this
causal abyss...

It's not a question,
but the gristle,
or no wrist in sight...

you can't help
hooking each
and every eye,
that enraptures,

an image invisible
to those captured,
who never think of trap doors...

you see a mirror
is locked,
once caught,

and travels everywhere,
across each and every
latitude of being,

whats'more it's our
peripheral gaze,
an annulment of sorts,
that frees us up
from thought not detonated,

distant close ups
penetrate the thinker,
peruse the excuse of many....

we cannot deceive what's lost,
but as to where it began?

the world it would seem
has no wrong imprinted onto
it's endless destination,

it is turning time with each
traction, dismantling bodies,
with each ghost second swallowed,

reasons which we savour or eat,
chaos has a world too!
nothing will stop this fracas!
of humans,
annihilating one another..