Treasure Island

GRANT FRASER

(JUNE 7 1964 / ABERDEEN)

THAT LITTLE BIT...


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

I say - up yours,
or kingdoms none!

Don't ever show up,
there's nowhere for
people like that,
lack of social etiquette
or colour,

That little bit
of gene pool efficiency,

Forever testing us!

Admitting,
we shouldn't try to
resist,

But as one gets older,
everything is made
to look more disgusting,

Especially that little bit...

Said to sort out
the boys from the men,

Or lost in younger women's
faces, doing wild
somersaults within!

Oh! yes! they sometimes
just don't know what to do
with that - little bit...

Sharing that little bit...
Giving that little bit away!
Here take my little bit,
I wouldn't even dream of it,
little by little bit...

There are so many strangers,
playing mind games with
that little bit...

For us to wake up in time,

Some think of that little bit,
as a desperate plea,
others, a dark perversity!

It can stall inside your grasp,
retreat behind a mask,
severe all ropes, comprise
another being,

Unfortunately some still even die,
from that little bit...
an inextinguishable hunger,
requires more being,
pole vaults into nothingness...
just like a diamond tossed
into a bin of replicas!

That little bit is both true and fake,
for there is too much at stake
in this vast vortex of being,

Where we hide, breathe, feed, die,
live out our goals,

As Earth rolls, extols,

Silently on it's axis....

Submitted: Saturday, March 16, 2013

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