Treasure Island

GRANT FRASER

(JUNE 7 1964 / ABERDEEN)

King Stone


You eat an eyeball - right?

Vision...

This delicate orb will bowl
you over,
and when you think
of death & time,

You can believe it
and not fear it any more...

What have you got stuck
in your throat,
but the rattling Sun,

'Please don't let it go out! '

As inner darkness flings
you about,

To half imagine your own Death,
I mean would a God want you
to come quibbling?

Sometimes the world is as interesting
as that...

Anything at one with itself,
with shrieks and moans,
out in stretches of deep
outer space,

So here I am,
heartbeat thumped upon heartbeat,

It doesn't take a magician
to show me I'm alive - flame - chucker!

You have to hold breath above water,
grab oneself by the throat,
contort the impudent ******* inside you,

Then go haywire with barbed wire all
around you,

And once you have it,
build tower upon tower,
until the world looks
like a symmetrical flower,

How sweet!

Now feed the person
who needs to break
out of itself,

He's got his little
thing called a king,
and it's killing him,

For he has returned
to the place where mad
explosions insist -
that rebirth is the
only way out...

Submitted: Sunday, April 07, 2013
Edited: Thursday, October 10, 2013
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