Dry Poem by GRANT FRASER

Imagine a man
strangled to reach
your bare wet branch
for a drink,

A drop of water
screaming out
of it's mind!

Look for Christ's
sake - please find another...

And you dying of a thirst,
that you barely conceived,

Then stumble along,
bash into things,

while a trillion necks stretch,
stretch - stretch forth,
like good elastic,

And drink down so fondly
the fast flowing screams...

Into mouths, like great big drums,

Violently gushing!