GRANT FRASER

(JUNE 7 1964 / ABERDEEN)

Vroom!


You want petrol
for blood, alloy heels,
so the hounds of hell
will not catch you,
they will not catch you,
never catch you...

Vroom!

Trip thru time, body in mind,
but not a word more, before you
accelerate down roads that haven't
yet existed, and spy yourself
inside the rear view mirror fixture,

Vroom!

Silver talisman on a bright chain,
tight chain, light chain, put your
faith in Christopher, he's a Saint,
but God is still a stranger,
a liquid reflection,
how about some verification,
and worldly power brought war
and redemption danger,

Vroom!

Now I'm croaking! Legs springing!
Breaking!

Cutting corners on one God
almighty -

Vroom!

Oh! yeah a prayer is a good vehicle too,
so lets put our hands together and pray
what,
to the gods of space and sun,
I'm still trying to find something out
unfathomable one,
but what doesn't give me the cause
to walk away
and question things
to the point of permanent
derangement,

Cause all you've
ever seen is -

Cat's eyes - Cat's eyes - Cats eyes -

and a vehicle going mad
at the dials...

Vroom!

Then they came to interrogate the man
without a goal - old broken foot -
was standing there, at the crossroads,

god and devil
taking down
extensive notes:

a sin is worth it's weight in gold,
'let the true light shine thru...'

one pulls the other together,
as they tango on the dance floor
of the human soul...

Look you've got all the moves...
'no I'm just good at leading! '
your tail is so scaly and nice -
but that halo, really belongs to me,
'nah! ye don't stick it on me -
my goal is angelic too...'

Vroom!

Sahara's of thought bleed salt water,
but the search continues,
while opening the eyes up ultra wide to -
the bravado!

Vroom! Vroom! Vroom!

Submitted: Thursday, March 28, 2013

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