Peer Less Poem by GRANT FRASER

They're just too
damned quick,
to seem real!

no syrupy eels
from the vortex,

cheap, deadened,
black and done,

the careful precious
Sun doesn't even shine
on no one,

even once you stick
it on your eye phone,

you say your watching...
but what it is you see?

your emotional settings...

I don't know where I am,
or if the word is going to
fail or fall on me...

or if a word
should attack another...

like what kind of door
do you see inside,

and is it closed?

or the word, has it got
a handle...

well - open it, right now,

taste that thing,
then send it out -

instant word flex,

watch it doesn't jam
up,
or smash your teeth out...

those semi precious things
you keep blurting out
are bloody overused and useless,

I'm going to find a new one,
I tell you, a good one,
it's going to leak
out of my word hole,

an expediency, you'll see...