Ryan Frazier

Ryan Frazier Poems

The Best Poem Of Ryan Frazier

Asleep Under The Cameras

You are no exception.

However the wild arms may
undulate at two sides,
the aspecrts of a chart
(North and the South) deliberating
behind the closed doors and open relationships.

One begins halfway into a film of device
and passes the hours developing genital
Hollywood to roll up around the smallest finger.

Nobody has the means for jewels,
we're taking tickets, drunk by gold,
sticking stomach onto our hands
and sleeping in subtle rewind.

Life still resounds through extremities.

Sometimes, by the hours,
when your hair starts with a film of device,
any identification of dialogue will
simply record this short lucky nudity with
our matchstick bodies.

If sitting with the dead doesn't
weaken your knees,
bend the spine with teeth chattering,
if our quiet tone doesn't
strike anywhere,
you'll never make it out alive.

Bathing in wine,
drunk with the caskets
and their culling silence
into forever.

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