Zebra Poem by GRANT FRASER

Simplicity
the intended workings,

but that such a difficult
human frontier, greets me,

in everyday storm swept
spaces of norm.

the anxiety of connection and being
torn away...

act together,

it's as if air tight
glass stands between
us,

total visibility,
but little else,

I evade shops,
take a right near
the Train station,

go through a brisk
panic attack,

then exit onto
square,

where young mixed
up people wait,
with Goth looks
and torn stares,

impatient Zebra!
we bustle against
one other,

the Red man....

mass speed reduction,

Green...

We're going the other
way,
we're hardly near
anything...

back to my own world...