GRANT FRASER Poems

I want to impress
the invisible stinking
nowhereness of life,
...

Imagine a man
strangled to reach
your bare wet branch
for a drink,
...

Sometimes I half imagine
your already there,
or coming...
...

My God!
don't start telling
us your actually still
alive and well...
...

The thinking muscle
accounts for that side
of things,
and words,
...

I walk with time,
we try and damage
each other,
...

Mrs Coutts lived on the ground floor
in the block next to ours,
between us stood the communal bin
...

A man is a man
from a woman,
by a man,
and starts off
...

You can't see what's
going on...

it's too dark or black,
...

And now to the male,
who switches focus,
so he can disappear
up, out through the ceiling,
...