Out Of Skin... Poem by GRANT FRASER

The back of the T.V.
absorbs the red and
yellow curtain colour,

and I can see all
of it from behind,

in fact
there is something
near the edge
of the stage everywhere,

you walk on

and then off

**** I always wanted
to be something like
Rimbaud,

a creator of something,
yet unheard of...

but for all the things
I've read,
I still can't find the urge,

as the roller coaster
flips
over
like a
beautiful female body,

wow - stops in mid air,

you can study live film
on a crowd of human eyes,

as the heart of time
jumps a beat,

in seconds a hundred
human feet start going
again,

you stop....where?

wherever...

the diamonds at Rox
shrink in their little sox.

whenever I stoop,

I make silver - happen,
didn't you observe,
the glow right there,

right now?

why wouldn't it dim,
when you can move,
have anything at your
command,

ah! resplendently,

all it's takes
is a millisecond,

and we're all on
our knees,

sobbing all over
the secret seams...