GRANT FRASER (JUNE 7 1964 / ABERDEEN)
Worth killing your self
Have you found something worth
killing your self for,
I mean your punching out
your own light little by little,
uniformity's black stamps!
I am posting a blank
letter to eternity!
for dissapproval aims,
the status quo is sick!
and the numbers are nowhere,
we're talking cruelty
and all the screwed up
sicknesses - par excellence,
i mean have you found even
one thought - worth investigating,
Have you, measured the rout and the rot?
tried to find out what it's about,
or why anything happened in the first place,
they say - we'll rearrange it,
do you ever think this is not you, really,
but a voice planted,
I want the stupid one
to turn this on it's head,
even if just for a small crop of meaning,
we're the real machine that's aged,
and knows a little better, I hope?
so I'm thinking,
well, lets face it, space is so far away,
and really doesn't give a shit!
in fact, anything that happens down here,
is just another ******* tribulation,
so what are we faced with,
self destruction, annihilation!
money is burning a hole in yr pocket,
even your wall,
so I think what I'm supposed to think
and I cling like you,
to some future or undeniable past,
that words refuse even to lift their heads...
because they're not what they were,
or at least the one's we thought
cower in the well predictable
corner's of the imagination...
to wrestle with nothing
and know that wisdom never
made it to future,
or if it did,
then it has no place to go,
try tearing out your own
heart and eating it,
black as tar, mouldy in
it's protective jacket,
I don't know what it beats
old clock of a thing!
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