Your Little World Poem by GRANT FRASER

Is that where you want
me to live,
on one of those little
make believe worlds?

yet you only turn
around when another
actor dies, or a celebrity,

the meaning has nil.
written on it...

mat, you said it,
not me,
first names should
be for friends,
and considering that
you didn't really
inform me - correctly,
means - well, mat...

I will just think mat,
yeah! mat,
something for wiping
your feet off on,
you think money
is the world...

besides poetry should
blow all doors off hinges!
and catch all the vampires
unaware,

planet Earth
has got worms squirming
at it's heart,

and that's human,

every little worm worming
it's way into life,

we are sending you to hell,
at a good price,

I need to bathe somewhere
far away,
from here, a place I
hope to endure,
from the likes of all
commercial earthlings,

let's just say
the incubator is faulty,
men and women alike,

everything
everyone
everywhere...

it's a gruesome
cattle mart,
and you need to act
now, before death
crumbles through
the wall of your world,

the smooth flexible
mesh of laughing
hysterical beasts,

cashing in
their blood money...

who stab the sun
until it dribbles
big red drops!