One Bottle Left Poem by GRANT FRASER

Today in the
streets of empty,
well almost,
the occasional
individual out
for air,
or someone
out walking the
family dog,

And a group
of children
excitedly as
I passed,
framed behind
glass,
the smallest
trying to stretch
up towards latch,
to open,
in a mucky nightie,

Would have been
a good photo,
but framed it inside -
instead,
and will be a sort
of snap shot for me to
remember, when
this is all over -

And the City Hotel
like a ghost house,
I slid the only letter
between glass vents
of door,
and it fell without
sound detection,
which gave me a
strange sensation
of unease,

'I have to live! ',
goes on somewhere
at the back of my mind,
keep going...
and if it get's me,
'I will do my best to
fight it...'
but things are always
creeping up inside,
the usual anxieties
and fears,
then it's like ' Edgar Allan Poe' -
here we go..

But I hope to hold on,
I think I know the drill,
better cancel applications,
it'll drive you off the edge,
just get on with it,
deliver, reconsider, June,
time is but a feint skin,
flaking! shedding,
already past, don't ask!
lady - here is the parcel
you ordered,
placed neatly down,
now that I believe is 2 metres?

Just as I nose dive
into the "Itch Overture",
to assist with wrist,
or fiddly elbow,
but only end up
with snot along cuff,
and surgical green fingers
all just in their
protective wrappers,
we won! !

On the high street
the Police seem
in less of a hurry..
(for a change) ,
and even stopped
for me at Zebra,
so I pawed
the air a bit!
and checked out
all the shelves at
Oddbins,
I hope it doesn't
all run out, at home,
as I only got 1 more
bottle..