A New Kind Of Carpet Called 'Poets Eyesore' (Ex. Hinterlands) - Poem by GRANT FRASER
Let's go. we're going, don't ask where,
We're going up there...
That place don't even know what it means?
But we've been deciding for centuries,
Let's go - that's it, this time, last orders,
Come on down, I want to hear it!
Show us your hearts - are they true enough,
C'mon - it's going to have be better than that,
Disclose, C'mon! open - show us it all...
We can handle it, we will, we can...
The nut is cracked, but never open,
Racked! racked! racked! racked! racked!
With the same old things,
Closets overflowing, privacy, conspiracy,
Are you really guilty of all that - thing,
That emptiness - whirling round,
In the deepest compartment of your mind,
Fill it now, stuff it, jam it shut with anything,
Moan! Squeak! Squawk! Skirl!
It's a girl? - No it's a boy!
It's something my friends, to be born -
And be fed nothing but crumbs...
Comments about A New Kind Of Carpet Called 'Poets Eyesore' (Ex. Hinterlands) by GRANT FRASER
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You