Encounter Poem by GRANT FRASER

Encounter



First they come up
ever so close,

with protruding pink beaks
and very red sharp eyes,

breathing, seizing, smelling...

our visceral others,

excuse me your highness
but who smells your ***!

the almighty bright light,
opens like a dirty purse,

as a drop of clear liquid
thickening halts,
against the arch of a prized leg,

we've got all the eggs,

under the guise of a great
monstrous tree,

a snake in a tiz,

I will slip back and see...

'naturally',

Thursday, March 20, 2014
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