Soft Strut... Poem by GRANT FRASER

where did you get that
gown,
show off?

I don't know,
but, I can't stop
displaying
what I have...

I dance
quite drunk,
and strut
before a mirror
of complete
eyesores!

look at them,
hen pecked
barely able,
to grasp their own
sense of oneness,

to jump back into a
mirror,
or find out what it's
like…

no longer a fossil
but all dressed up
in wet fur!

does beauty
protect knowledge,
does beauty
start wars?

the wonderful adverse
thought is about to fly free,
in the face of extremes,
and conformity's finger
is fiddling in a wet ****!

back to where it began,
rapt in silky feathers
of all that lies,

ready to die
all over again...