Treasure Island

GRANT FRASER

(JUNE 7 1964 / ABERDEEN)

Kick!


kick it -
kick the poem
into the light,
rip it's skin off,

see if it cares,

kick it again,
watch to see
if it stares,
back...asunder,

kick it,
kick it in the
word teeth,
like piano grief,

kick it to ****
see if it really
really works,
kick it in the face,

your such a disgrace,
acting like every
word glows,

but it grows - I know,
I know - I know - I know,
in your very blood,
and won't give up,

and you'll run back
every time with a flying

kick!

just to see
just to see
if it moved
at all, changed
it's tact...

yeah!

kick in it's blunt
knife of a face! ¬
I walk away,
kick me - go on!

kick!
kick!
kick!

this human with
strange weird twisted
eyes, blue as skies,
who kicks himself,
wherever I go...

and I kick me,
out of it,
no word would
change or save him,
but your a kicker
too aren't you?

and life it's
just one great big kick,
isn't it...
right out into space....

I just can't
get further away,

when you are kicked
so often,
and there is no cement
for you,

smile
can kick,

yeah!

kick!
kick!
kick!

it doesn't really
know what it does,
to the kicked many!

just smile
anyway,
that's what they
say...

Submitted: Saturday, May 24, 2014

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